


The History of the Thirteen

by Rosee872



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 32,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosee872/pseuds/Rosee872
Summary: This is a history of how I think the Thirteen might have met and (possibly) what happens to them in the afterlife. I do not own any of the characters except any original characters I created for the story. Some of the first few chapters were written with the help of a close friend of mine.
Relationships: Kaya Blackbeak/Thea Blackbeak
Comments: 26
Kudos: 20





	1. Asterin

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I hope you enjoy this. Comments and kudos are appreciated and welcome, but please be nice. This is my first fic and I am doing my best. I will add tags as I need to throughout the story. Updates will probably be irregular. The first chapters are going to be pretty short and each from a different witch's POV. They will (hopefully) get longer as the story goes on and be more involved.

Asterin stalked through the doors of Blackbeak Keep, her Ironwood broom clutched in one hand, a wooden box in the other. She stalked down hallways and up sets of stairs, the way familiar by now although not welcome. She halted outside the Matron’s doors. She squared her shoulders before knocking.

“Come in,” the Matron’s cold voice slid down her spine as sharp as the iron nails that resided under skin, ready to spring out at the first sign of trouble. She opened the door and strode into the room, her black cloak billowing behind her. Only Manon was allowed to wear red.

The Matron turned from her desk and didn’t bother to hide the flash of disdain in her eyes at the sight of Asterin. Asterin had known from the first time she set eyes on the Matron that the Matron didn’t like her. The fact that Manon chose her as her second angered the Matron to no end. Asterin wasn’t sure if Manon didn’t see the Matron’s dislike of Asterin or simply ignored it. Asterin would bet the former. 

She set the wooden box on the desk and the Matron eyed it dispassionately. Asterin flipped back the lid to reveal three Crochan hearts nestled inside like bright rubies. They were her first. This had been her first hunt and these were the first Crochan hearts she had brought back. 

“A gift,” Asterin said. And proof she had made her first kill. 

“Was that all?” the Matron asked, her voice cold.

“Yes,” Asterin said, before turning on her heel and striding out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. The Matron disliked Asterin and rarely showed emotions, and when she did it was almost always of the darker set- disappointment, disdain, anger, a sort of sadistic joy when she watched someone torn limb from limb. But somehow she still thought her first kill would have warranted more than just a passing glance and a swift dismissal.

She had wanted to ask if Manon had returned but she hadn’t trusted herself not to say something that would anger the Matron. Asterin was not known for her self control. She headed towards the tower where Manon’s room lay. When she arrived she took a deep breath. Manon’s scent was stale. She hadn’t been here for a long time so if she had returned from her mission it was recently. 

Asterin asked around the Keep but no one had seen Manon recently, so she could only assume that she had yet to return.

Asterin was restless and her skin itched as though it didn’t quite fit right, but she didn’t want to leave for another mission until she had a chance to talk to Manon, so she decided it would be best to stay out of the Matron’s way. She wouldn’t put it past the Matron to send Asterin out just so she would miss seeing Manon.

After three hours of restless pacing in her room she stalked out and headed towards the training room. Slicing things to pieces, be it with nails or a sword, always seemed to make Asterin feel better. She picked up a broadsword and tested it’s weight before setting her sights on a dummy and hacking it to pieces. As she swung the sword she thought about the Matron. Asterin had never liked her, but it wasn’t her place to question things. She was the heir’s second. Her job was to follow orders and adhere to the three words that defined all Blackbeak witches, the words she repeated in her head with every swing of the sword.

Obedience. Discipline. Brutality.


	2. Sorrel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Sorrel's 'intro' I guess. I hope you enjoy!

She hit the ground running. Even as her ankles smarted from the less than perfect landing she lunged forward deflecting her trainer’s sword with her own. The fight continued with minimal excitement until Sorrel decided she was tired of circling and deflecting. She ran forward flashing her sword to distract from the motion of her left wrist as she flicked out her iron nails. Xylette easily knocked the sword out of Sorrel’s hand, but who needed swords? Before the trainer could do anything Sorrel’s left hand closed around her throat, iron nails digging lightly into the muscled flesh. 

“I win,” she said, baring her iron teeth.

“Very nice” said a cold, clear voice and Sorrel turned to face her mother. Ariadale smiled her perfect, practiced smile. “However,”

Of course. It was never solely praise from her mother.

“You could have won much sooner if you hadn’t wasted all that time with your useless circling. You’re a good fighter, though. You’d probably make an excellent coven member, but you wouldn’t be the best leader. Shame.”

Sorrel bowed her head and nodded. 

“Actually,” someone mused.

Sorrel’s head snapped up. She knew that voice. Every blackbeak knew that voice. The Matron smiled down at her. It was a spider’s smile, practiced and insincere, like that of Sorrel’s mother. What she was doing here, in one of the training rooms, watching a thirteen year old witch fight, Sorrel had no idea.

“You know my granddaughter, Manon Blackbeak?”

A formality. Everyone knew Manon. “Yes,” Sorrel said

“Well, I believe she has decided who she will choose as her second, when the time comes. I don’t quite agree with this choice. I believe this witch is rash and overly bold. However, she is young, as are you and Manon, and perhaps she will prove me wrong. All the same, I would like to see someone more like you as her third. Someone… steady."

“I would be honored, My lady,” Sorrel responded

“Of course you would be.” The matron smiled her spider’s smile again. “Here, tomorrow at dawn.”

The next day, Sorrel met Manon and Asterin. She liked them both, but understood why a steadier personality was needed to balance them out. Manon was cold and cruel, everything the Blackbeak heir should be. Asterin, on the other hand, was a flame, always talking and grinning. They were both good fighters, and Sorrel liked their group dynamic. Manon looked on as Sorrel grappled with Asterin. Without weapons, Sorrel should have won easily, but Asterin was fast, tricky. She finally pinned Asterin, and looked up to Manon. 

“Ice, fire, stone,” Manon muttered thoughtfully under her breath. “I like this.” Sorrel had to admit, she did too. 


	3. Vesta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Vesta's introduction and how she meets Manon.

Vesta hurried towards the imposing Keep, her feet silent on the uneven ground. She clutched her black cloak tighter around her shoulders ___ it was cold out. She slipped toward one of the smaller entrances into the Keep. If she had timed it right it would be someone new. When the door finally came into view, she nearly sighed in relief. She didn’t recognize the man. 

While there was no general curfew Vesta’s mother was paranoid. She insisted Vesta be inside the walls of the Keep before nightfall. Her paranoia was what had driven Vesta out of the house to begin with, eager to escape her mother’s increasing craziness. Vesta had no love for the woman who had given birth to her. Her mother saw her beauty and nothing else, and thought that Vesta would eventually leave her. Her mother hadn’t wanted to teach her how to fight, so Vesta had snuck out and found a teacher on her own. But while she was deadly and could now wield a blade as well as fight hand-to-hand she didn’t need such a crude approach tonight.

“Hello,” she purred to the man standing guard at the side door to the Keep. He whirled around and she heard his heartbeat skyrocket. Vesta pulled her hood back and fluttered her eyelashes as though startled to see him. Vesta had learned from a young age to use her beauty to her advantage, especially before she knew how to wield a blade. She had stunning red hair, full lips, and stunning complexion she knew she turned heads.“I was just returning a little late from a visit to a friend. I apologize for startling you.”

The man blinked, his eyes trained on her chest until she spoke and his head snapped up. “Umm, I ___ it’s no problem.”

“Oh, thank you,” Vesta said. “You won’t tell anyone will you? I was supposed to be home an hour ago but I stayed a little later than usual and the walk home took longer than expected,” she glanced at him from under her lashes. 

“Of course not,” the man said. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

“Oh, thank you!” Vesta said as she slipped through the doorway before the guard gathered his wits enough to ask for something in return for her silence. 

Usually she wouldn’t have minded being late. As she grew older and her mother became stricter Vesta rebelled more. She stayed out late and generally did anything she could think of to upset her mother, but as the punishments for her rebellions grew harsher Vesta stopped acting out so brazenly. She turned to more quiet rebellion, doing things her mother would disapprove of but not shoving it in her mother’s face. As she darted up the stairs toward Asterin’s room, she began composing a story in her head to explain why she was late. 

When she reached Asterin’s door, she knocked. It swung open seconds later to reveal the stunning golden-haired witch. Asterin took one look at her and grinned.

“Out a little late tonight are we?” She asked. Vesta huffed as she pushed into Asterin’s room, the witch stepping aside to let her pass.

“Will you cover for me?” Vesta asked as she took off the cloak and tossed it into a corner. Vesta had met Asterin when the witch had gotten into a brawl and Vesta had convinced the man it had simply been a misunderstanding. After that the two had been, if not friends, at least cordial to one another.

“Of course,” Asterin purred. She knew part of the reason Asterin covered for her was her own rebellious streak showing itself. Vesta had covered for Asterin on numerous occasions after the first time.

Vesta shot Asterin a smirk as Asterin handed her a new cloak which smelled somewhat of Asterin but mostly of the inside of the Keep, and not the outside.

When they arrived at Vesta’s room, they opened the door to find Vesta’s mother sitting in a chair in the living room, hands placed demurely in her lap. 

“You’re late,” she said as she rose. 

“I was with Asterin. I was back inside the Keep before dusk,” Vesta replied.

Her mother shifted her piercing green eyes to Asterin, scrutinizing the witch. Asterin, for her part simply smirked, looking completely unconcerned. Her mother’s lips tightened but she flicked her eyes back to Vesta as she said, “Of course. I hope your first hunt went well,” her mother said.

Vesta linked her hands together in front of her. It was tradition for a witch to begin hunting Crochans by the age of fourteen. Some went earlier but all went by fourteen. Vesta had turned fourteen five months ago, but her mother had not let her go and Vesta suspected she had no intention of doing so.

Asterin flicked a glance at Vesta before she backed out and closed the door behind her.

“I expect you to be on time from now on. I will not tolerate disrespect,” her mother said, her voice as sharp as Vesta’s iron nails.

“Yes, mother,” Vesta responded before escaping to the relative safety of her room. As she lay in bed she wondered what exactly her mother would do to her if she continued to rebel. The way her mother spoke hinted at something worse than a simple beating. And she wondered, exactly how easy it would be to make her disappear. They might be blood but to witches that mean next to nothing. In this world the weak died. If you were at the bottom you got faster, and if you couldn’t do that you got stronger, and if you couldn’t do that you got smarter, and if you couldn’t do that you died. It was as simple as that. Witches did not tolerate the weak.


	4. Edda and Briar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a little peak into Edda and Briar's life before they met Manon.

From the time she was a babe, Edda had been taught to live in the shadows. She had been taught that to stand out meant death. When she was younger her parents' way of teaching her to be invisible was for her to get ten lashes every time a servant spotted her. So Edda learned to disappear. She materialized in the dining room for meals along with her cousin, Briar, who was more of a sister, and then they simply seemed to vanish into thin air. No one saw them unless they wanted to be seen. Eventually they even stopped showing up for meals. The food that was laid out for them simply disappeared, the only sign they had ever been there. They became ghosts and eventually most people forgot they even lived there and no one much noticed when they stopped.

That day was imprinted into Edda’s memory, however. Edda had been thirteen the day they were summoned to Blackbeak Keep. Edda and Briar had been leaving the house when a blackbeak witch approached them. 

Briar slid the door closed silently behind them and they had turned to leave when they spotted the witch. She wore the black robes of a witch of high rank, Edda wasn’t sure exactly which. When she saw them she strode right up to them. Edda and Briar had both reached automatically for their knives. While they had been taught to blend into the shadows they had also been taught to fight, although they were only average. Their advantage lay in not being seen.

“Edda and Briar, I presume?” The witch had asked, her voice cold and holding that haughty edge of the overly confident. It wasn’t the first time Edda had heard that tone of voice and she instantly disliked the witch. 

A sarcastic retort came instantly to mind, but along with their lessons in stealth they had been taught the value of holding their silence, so Edda simply dipped her chin in a barely-there nod. 

“Do you speak?” The witch sneered. Neither answered. She huffed and stuck her chin out in what Edda supposed was supposed to be an imperial manner, but in Edda’s opinion it simply made her look remarkably like a rooster. “My name is Ivana. You have been summoned by the Blackbeak Matron and I am here to escort you to Blackbeak Keep.” The tone of voice in which she said this made Edda think it was supposed to be a great honor but when the cousins simply stared blankly at her she spun on her heel and marched off, expecting them to follow. The cousins exchanged glances before striding after Ivana, silent as ghosts.

When the party arrived at the Keep, Ivana showed them to the Matron’s study, but when she tried to enter after them, the Matron waved her off and said, “You may leave now.” Ivana left, closing the door behind her.

The Matron studied the two of them, her eyes cold and unfeeling, and Edda felt the unexplainable urge to run. When the Matron smiled, it was cold, almost unnatural as though the Matron were a doll, it’s lips twisted into a sneer that a child had tried to cover up by painting over it with a smile that didn’t quite fit. Edda shoved the thoughts out of her head and mentally berated herself for thinking like that, and about the Matron no less.

“I have heard quite a lot about the two of you. Rumor has it that you could walk up to a witch and slit her throat and she wouldn’t know who had done it to her even while she was bleeding out on the floor.”

Neither one of us responded. I simply tilted my head ever so slightly side to side. The Matron pinned us with that unnatural smile again. “You don’t speak much do you? Well I don’t like witches who talk unnecessarily. I am offering the two of you positions as my spies. You will go where I tell you to gather information on whatever I tell you. You will not ask questions. You will not tell anyone but me what you discover unless I explicitly say otherwise. In return you will be paid and you will receive a room at Blackbeak Keep.”

Briar looked at me and I saw the words in her eyes, the same ones I had no doubt she could see in mine.

In unison we turned to look at the Matron as we said, “Yes.”


	5. Ghislaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Ghislaine meets Manon.

Ghislaine’s footsteps were silent as she crept from her room in the dead of night. She wore loose pants and a simple shirt. No floorboards creaked to alert the other occupants of her passing, and she reached the library without a single soul in the house the wiser to her whereabouts. She lit the lantern she had stashed by the door and held it up to reveal the room to her. It was huge. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered every single inch of wall space save for the door. More bookshelves curved farther into the dark room, standing close enough there was barely enough room to squeeze between them. Each bookshelf was packed with books, old tomes, scrolls, plays, any and all sources of knowledge.

Ghislaine held up the lanter, navigating the library with ease despite the late hour and the seeming endless maze of shelves. The library had become her sanctuary. Ghislaine was the youngest of four daughters. The fact her parents had been blessed with four daughters was a miracle in and of itself, but the fact that none of them were defective ___ yet at least ___ was even more miraculous. However being born last, she had to live up to the expectations her parents had based on the actions of her siblings. All of them were amazing fighters and it was a constant battle as to who would come out on top that day in training. It wasn’t that Ghislaine was a bad fighter, she was actually very naturally gifted, but she didn’t pursue it as her sisters did. Her sisters were a good deal older than she and had devoted every hour of their long lives to training, and Ghislaine had quickly grown tired of playing catch up especially when it became clear her sisters and parents didn’t actually  _ want  _ her to be the best. So Ghislaine had turned to other things, such as gathering information and she had become quite obsessed with books. She still trained, she simply didn’t do it with her sisters anymore.

Ghislaine ran her fingers over the spines of the books and picking out some to her liking she found a sheltered corner of the library and began reading. She read all through the night and early hours of the morning. Only when light began to leak in earnest from the big window behind her did she get up, returning the books to their rightful places on the shelves and then slipping into her room to get properly dressed. She was the first one awake, not surprising considering she hadn’t actually gone to sleep, and she settled herself in the kitchen to wait for the others to rise.

Her mother was the first to rise. When she saw Ghislaine sitting at the table her lips twisted into a sneer. She completely ignored Ghislaine and Ghislaine could feel her patience thinning. She was tired of being ignored like this all the time and it was getting old. She decided she didn’t need breakfast this morning and escaped to the library. No one would be able to find her in here.

Ghislaine considered her options. She was sixteen, so she was old enough to leave the house technically. She could run away but that didn’t really seem like a viable option. She could request to move to Blackbeak Keep and train there. If she did she would be able to leave the house and she would live at the Keep. She wouldn’t have to see her family ever again.

She crept out of the house, and made her way to the Keep. She wasn’t familiar with the protocol for these things, but she had no better ideas. She turned the corner and ran right into someone. She leapt back, her iron nails snapping down immediately. The golden haired witch simply raised her brows at the display, unconcerned.

“There’s no need for that,” she purred.

Ghislaine sheathed her iron nails. It was possible she had overreacted, but she was a bit jumpy. “Who are you?” she asked.

The witch grinned. “My name is Asterin.” 

Ghislaine stilled. Manon’s second. She was the heir’s second. “My apologies. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Asterin grinned. “Forgiven. What is your name? And what are you doing here?”

Ghislaine eyed her for a moment before she said, “Ghislaine. I want to move into the Keep and train here.”

Asterin arched a brow. “Were you intending to ask the Matron?” When Ghislaine nodded, Asterin waved her off. “I’ll take you to Manon. She has the power to give you a room and you won’t have to bother the Matron. She’s moody today.” Ghislaine reluctantly followed her when the witch turned and walked toward the spires.

They arrived outside a simple set of doors at the top of one of the spires. Asterin knocked once before pushing the door open without waiting for a response. Manon Blackbeak sat at a desk, looking over some sort of document. She looked up when Asterin entered, her eyes narrowed in irritation until she saw who it was. Manon’s solid gold eyes pinned Ghislaine to the spot as she scrutinized her.

“Manon,” Asterin said and Manon’s eyes shifted to her. “This is Ghislaine. She wants to live and train here. I told her we should ask you.”

Instead of looking annoyed like Ghislaine would have thought, Manon straightened and a look Ghislaine couldn’t read passed between the two of them.

“I will grant your request under one condition. I wish for you to train with me,” she jerked her head at Asterin. “As well as my third.”

Ghislaine desperately wanted to ask why, but Manon was the heir and it was not her place to question the heir’s decisions. She dipped her head and murmured, “Of course.” 

When Manon smirked and Asterin broke into a flat out grin she wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into.


	6. Imogen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imogen's introduction to Manon.

The only sound in the empty training room was Imogen’s sword hitting the dummy in front of her. It was perhaps an hour before dawn and most witches were sleeping. Imogen wasn’t most witches. She had been restless and unable to sleep and so after hours of tossing and turning she had dressed and headed to the training yard. She had visited her family and as predicted, it had gone poorly. She had been living at Blackbeak Keep for three years, since she was twelve. Her family visited her perhaps once a year, sometimes more, and she dreaded each and every single visit. She was so engrossed in hacking the dummy to pieces that she didn’t notice the witch until she spoke.

“I assume you’re Imogen since I doubt anyone else would be out here at such an hour.”

Imogen spun, heart thudding.  _ It wasn’t possible. _ But sure enough, standing at the edge of the training ring, moon white hair glowing, was Manon Blackbeak. Imogen froze, staring before she remembered herself. She slowly lowered her sword. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Good,” Manon said. “I’ve heard you are the best fighter at the Keep. I would like to train with you.”

Imogen hesitated. She had so many questions, but it wasn’t her place to ask, and it made sense that Manon would need to learn how to fight from the best.

She dipped her head.

Manon pulled a sword off the wall and turned to face Imogen. “Where do we start?”

That had been three years ago. Imogen had been eleven at the time. Manon had improved greatly in that time. However, at the time she hadn’t known that by agreeing to train Manon she would also be roped into training her second, Asterin and anyone else Manon wished her to, although she didn’t mind. Not that it would have mattered if she had. 

Imogen flexed her fingers where they were gripping the edges of the wooden table and stretched out her neck. She had been tense lately, and while she couldn’t pinpoint why, she had learned early to trust her instincts. Perhaps, she mused, it was because Manon would be ‘coming of age’ soon. All witches went on their first hunt by fourteen, but when they turned eighteen. . . that was when they were really considered mature. They were placed with a legion trained with them from that day on. But of course, Manon was special and Imogen wondered what, exactly, the Matron had planned for the heir.


	7. Thea and Kaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thea and Kaya meet Manon.

Kaya and Thea circled each other, swords in hand. They were both great fighters, and they both knew the others strengths and weaknesses perfectly. Thea claimed that they had once cricled each other for three quarters of an hour before either of them had made any move. Kaya wasn’t sure if she believed her. That seemed like an unusually long time and Thea… well, she wasn’t one to undersell anything. Thea sprang forward, using Kaya’s distraction to her advantage. Kaya was ready though. She met Thea strike for strike, until they were facing off, swords crossed, each pushing her blade against the other’s.

“Kaya, darling?” Thea purred, staring deeply into Kaya’s eyes.

“Yeah?” She breathed immediately.

Thea bared her iron teeth in a wide, far too beautiful grin. “I win” She pushed down hard on the sword that, in her stupid blushing school girl moment, Kaya had relaxed her grip on. In one swift moved Thea had her disarmed and pinned to the floor.

“Not fair,” Kaya complained, but Thea just grinned. Kaya stuck her tongue out. Thea laughed and kissed her, playfully at first, then deeper.

“How touching,” a cold voice said with mock emotion. 

Thea and Kaya broke apart quickly, getting up and dusting themselves off. A gold-eyed, white-haired witch stood in the doorway of the training room. Manon, the heir to the blackbeak clan. She looked them up and down, then sighed. 

“Thea and Kaya?”

They nodded

“Do you talk?”  
“Yes, of course we talk,” Kaya said.

“Kaya!” Thea said, “I was just going to nod again!”

Kaya laughed. “I’m sorry you ruined your fun. Will you forgive me?”

Thea stuck her bottom lip out in a little pout and said “I will consider it.”

Kaya lowered her long, dark eyelashes over her blue eyes. “Please?’

Thea’s nose wrinkled in a final moment of restraint, but Kaya knew it was hopeless. While Thea was the one among the two of them that could get anything by simply batting her eyelashes, Kaya had her ways as well. At least, when it came to Thea.

Thea gave a dramatic sigh and said, “Alright. I forgive you.”

Kaya grinned at her small victory. “Thank you, love.” 

Manon’s eyebrows rose slightly. “If you’re done making moon eyes at each other, I have a proposal.” 

Kaya was intrigued but Thea, of course, just grinned and said, “The moon eyes have no end.”

Manon rolled her eyes. “I’m forming a coven, and I want witches who work well together. Cousins, twins,” She tilted her head towards Thea and Kaya, “Lovers. However, I want witches, not love-sick idiots, so, like it or not, the moon eyes will have to stop.” 

Kaya grinned. “I think I can restrain myself.”

Thea smiled, turning to Manon, “We’re in. Although, I have to ask, is the Matron simply going to let you form this coven without consulting her?”

“Oh, I’m sure she will come up with something to challenge my choices. But I want my coven picked out before then, and the witches I have chosen will win whatever challenge the Matron puts forward. And if they don’t I’ll know I’ve chosen wrong.”

The two lovers grinned at each other. Oh, when the time came, they would win.


	8. Faline and Fallon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peak at the twin's life before Manon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning- mild mention of violence in this chapter

Faline laughed as the warm blood rushed down her throat. It had been hours since their last kill, and the hunger, the bloodlust, the need to rip someone to pieces with her iron nails and laugh while doing it had been fresh again. She knew her sister felt the same way. After they dried up the corpse, a young man who was unlucky enough to be walking the streets of the small town late at night, she turned to Fallon and grinned. Her twin grinned back at her.

“Your smile looks maniacal,” Fallon giggled.

They collapsed together in a pile of breathy, gasping laughs. Blood was intoxicating to them, and they loved it. There was something about death that… woke them up. Violence had called to them from a young age, and they had been abandoned by their mother after killing an entire village of people when they were 8. Witchlings were prized by blackbeaks, and they knew it had pained their mother to let go the unimaginable blessing of twins, but Faline and Fallon brought new meaning to the word violent. They were merciless, killed for pleasure, and laughed while doing it. They had moved from town to town over the years, leaving each with a significantly smaller population than when they had first arrived. Town after town until the tales of the green eyed twins who showed up, killed half the town for food and the other half for fun, then left, no one stopping them, no one daring to, had spread through the entirety of the Ruhnn mountains. No one had ever figured out quite what was wrong with them. Faline grinned to herself. Maybe they really were crazy. Or maybe, everyone else was. 

“Wait,” Muttered Fallon, tensing.

“What is it?” giggled Faline, still giddy from bloodlust, but then she heard it. The gentle thumping of footsteps on the stones of the town square. Faline saw the witch emerge from the shadows. By far the most beautiful witch she had ever seen, the stranger had pure gold eyes and moon white hair. She seemed vaguely familiar, like someone she might have known as a child, but forgotten amidst the violence of the five years since they had been abandoned. 

“Are you the green eyed demon twins?” The witch asked quietly.

“Probably,” said Fallon.

“Is that what they're calling us these days? It’s quite nice actually,” Faline added.

The witch smiled coldly. “You’re giggling over a corpse in the middle of a town square. I wouldn’t call it nice, I’d call it accurate. I’m Manon.”

“What do you want with us, Manon?” Faline asked

“I want coven mates. I have several already, but the rumors of your brutality intrigued me. I could use some merciless witches in my coven." 

Faline looked at her thinking, then turned to her twin. 

Fallon shrugged. “If we hate it, we could just kill them all in their sleep, and leave. It’s not like it’s a commitment or anything.”

Manon looked like she might disagree, but she just smiled and said, “Well, I’m glad that’s all sorted out.”


	9. Lin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how Manon meets Lin.

Lin roared as she hacked the dummy to pieces, keeping her sword in her non-dominant hand. She loved fighting, loved the rush it gave her. She loved the feeling that, if someone ever dared to call her Lineah, she could rip them to pieces then carve “softhearted” on their corpse. Her stupid, caring mother had named her that. Named her that, and then proceeded to advocate for Crochan rights because, apparently, “Crochans are witches too”. Lin growled at the thought. She was lucky her grandmother had killed her mother minutes after Lin was born and raised Lin herself. As a young witch, Lin had been made fun of for her name, for her mother. So, she had learned to fight, learned to use a sword as well with her left hand as she could in her right. Learned to use a bow and arrows, to use daggers, spears, nails and teeth, and her hands, no weapons whatsoever. They stopped calling her “Crochan-lover” when she brought 5 crochan hearts back to Blackbeak keep at the age of eleven. They stopped calling her softhearted when she took 5 of theirs. 

“Lineah?”

Lin whirled, sword raised, ready to take the life of any witch who dared to call her that. Except, maybe she shouldn’t kill this particular witch. When she turned, she found an absurdly gorgeous witch with long white hair and beautiful gold eyes. Manon. She probably shouldn't kill the heir to the Blackbeak clan. She settled for tackling Manon and holding a dagger to her throat.

“It’s Lin,” she growled into Manon’s ear.

“If you’re that passionate about it, I suppose I can call you Lin,” Manon said, staring coldly up at Lin.

Lin hesitated. That had not been what she expected. Slowly she lifted herself off of Manon, tucking the dagger back into its sheath. “Why are you here?” She asked

Manon raised a haughty brow. “I believe that I’m the heir to this keep. Perhaps I was just strolling about, viewing my inheritance.”

Lin looked at her coldly.

Manon tilted her head to the side studying Lin. “I’m putting together a coven. I heard you killed five Crochans in as many weeks.”  
“At eleven.”

“Impressive. Do you accept my proposal? You should probably note that my grandmother is most likely going to put together some sort of challenge for the members of my coven and you will have to win it.”

Lin considered. The coven of the heir of the Blackbeaks. Soft hearted indeed.

“I accept,” she said with a vicious grin. “And don’t worry, I’ll win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. So I know these chapters have been pretty short but this is the last introductory chapter and the ones after should be longer.


	10. Asterin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit of angst before the start of the competition that will decide who Manon's coven is.

Asterin threw aside the book she had been attempting to read for the last half hour and made a noise of disgust. Manon, the bitch, looked completely serene where she sat opposite Asterin and simply raised a brow at this show of temper. 

“How are you so calm?” Asterin demanded.

Manon sighed and looked up from the document she had been scanning. She pinned Asterin with those burnished gold eyes, and Asterin couldn’t help the slight shiver. Her eyes were solid gold and Asterin would never admit it, but she had always found them a bit unnerving. They were too unnatural, and Asterin always felt a little like an animal trapped in a cage when Manon looked at her.

The Matron was announcing what the challenge would be that decided which witches would make up the heir’s coven today, and it had Asterin on edge. Asterin knew the Matron would be hoping Asterin was eliminated from the challenge. It was no secret the Matron didn’t like her and thought she was a bad influence on Manon. Asterin had always had a bit of a rebellious streak and it had only grown as she got older. She had little to no impulse control, and she was a bit of a wild card. No one was exactly sure what she was going to do next, sometimes least of all her. When she had been younger her parents had hoped she would grow out of it. Because while she was most definitely brutal, she didn’t take orders well and as mentioned before she was rash and impulsive which didn’t lend her toward being disciplined. She had a cocky, arrogant, self-assured attitude that aggravated ninety percent of witches and made the other ten percent wish they could kill her. It also didn’t help that a sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Sarcasm was an underappreciated art in witches. Unfortunately, she had  _ not  _ grown out of it as she aged, and it was a sore point for Asterin. 

“She will do what she wants to do. Nothing we say or do will change what she has planned for today. I have already made clear I want thirteen witches in my coven including me. The witches I have chosen will win whatever challenge she puts forth or I will know I’ve chosen wrong.”

Manon’s words broke Asterin out of her contemplation. Asterin knew the ‘she’ Manon was referring to was the Matron. And Manon was right. Nothing any of them said or did would change the Matron’s mind. She knew if it were up to Manon, she would have chosen her coven without any of this fanfare, but it wasn’t solely up to her. The witches Manon had chosen for her coven and that she was expecting to win were her, Vesta, the two shadows (Edda and Briar), Ghislaine, Imogen, Sorrel, Lin, the lovers (Thea and Kaya), and the green-eyed demon twins (Faline and Fallon). Manon had sent the others away to prepare for the challenge. There was no need for them all to be here, feeding off of each other’s nervous energy. But Asterin was Manon’s second, and it was her job to protect the heir. 

Asterin flopped into a chair, rather ungraceful for the usually lithe witch. She unsheathed her iron nails and studied them. She had cleaned and sharpened her nails and teeth as well as any weapons she thought might be allowed in the challenge yesterday, so she had nothing to do but wait. Asterin was not a patient witch, however, and she knew would go insane soon if she didn’t find something to do.

Manon must have also realized this, because she tossed aside the document she was reading once again before standing. 

“Gather the others. We’re going to do some light sparring to warm up and make sure everyone is ready,” Manon said. 

Asterin was out the door before Manon finished her sentence.

[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []

Asterin took a swig of water as she sat on the edge of the sparring ring where the demon twins were going at each other. Her muscles had a pleasant ache from her earlier exercise. She stretched out her legs, relishing the burn. Fallon landed a particularly brutal hit and Asterin winced. She felt a presence beside her, but didn’t bother to look over.

“A little jumpy, are we?” Vesta asked.

Asterin scowled. “And how would you know that?”

“You’re why we’re all down here, are you not?”

“Maybe,” Asterin said with a frown. 

“We’re going to win,” Vesta said firmly. 

Asterin cocked her head. “We’re going to win,” Asterin repeated, although her voice didn’t hold as much confidence as Vesta’s.

“Heir?” A new voice intruded, halting their conversation. 

Manon rose from her position against the wall, watching them all, and strode toward the new arrival. 

“The Matron is about to announce the challenge. Everyone is to gather in the great hall.”

Everyone was paying attention now. Weapons were returned to their rightful places as the witches all made their way to the great hall. When they arrived, Manon was swept away to stand by the Matron on a balcony overlooking the crowd as she made the announcement.

“Blackbeak witches, as you all know, my heir will be choosing a coven. There will be a series of tests. First is the assessment. Every witch will show off a talent of their choosing. It can be any talent you want, but you have to impress us. We will provide materials, but you are permitted to bring your own supplies to showcase. If we deem you competent enough you will move onto the next part of the competition. The competition will be broken into four days. The test will be announced at the beginning of each day. The assessment will begin tomorrow. The order will be posted tomorrow.” 

Vesta stepped up beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and looked at Asterin.

“Things are going to change after this. We’re going to be a coven. The heir’s coven,” Asterin said.

Vesta looked out over the witches sparring, at Manon. “Yes, we will. We are going to be the heir’s coven. Because we are going to win.” Vesta looked at her and grinned, broad and wide, and a touch wicked and dangerous. And Asterin grinned back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, this chapter isn't quite as long as I was hoping it would be, but oh well. My winter break is over so the chapter updates might be a little more irregular and I apologize for that. I will hopefully have a new chapter each week, but life happens. We currently have a mama dog with 7 babies so we'll see what kind of time I have. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!


	11. Briar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of the competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while! School was a bitch and then I had a three day tournament. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and as always comments and kudos are appreciated!

“Edda, Briar.”

At the sound of Manon’s voice, they peeled themselves out of the shadows to walk beside her. She had always had a knack for seeing us when others couldn’t. Then again, since unless she told us to be somewhere else, they were always in the shadows nearby, so she didn’t necessarily have to see us to know they were there. Other witches never saw us unless they wanted to be seen. The witches in Manon’s coven were harder to sneak up on, but even they sometimes forgot about us. Out of sight, out of mind. That was the idea at least.

“My grandmother is going to be doing the assessment portion of the competition by herself. In her words, she wants to assess them herself. I want the two of you to find a place out of sight, high up, and watch. Do. Not. Interfere. In any way whatsoever. I want you to watch, see how everyone does.”

She and Edda exchanged a glance. “Of course.” Edda spoke for both of us.

“Keep note of the skills everyone shows, but only the witches who pass onto the next part of the competition. Keep special note of the stronger competitors.”

We simply nodded, choosing not to speak. They followed Manon down the hallway. She entered her study, where the rest of her coven was lounging. Asterin was sprawled gracefully across the couch, as usual. Ghislaine was tucked into a corner reading. The other witches sat on various pieces of furniture throughout the room. As usual, she and Edda simply melted into the shadows to watch.

“As most of you know, the assessment portion will be judged by the Matron only. The first competitor will start their assessment in half an hour. Edda and Briar you will be doing this portion together, same with Faline and Fallon. Thea and Kaya, you too. All other portions of the competition will be solo. The Shadows will be watching and will report back to me. I expect you all to do well.”

There was a collective murmur of assent from the group. They spent the next half hour watching the witches as they waited for the first part of the competition to start. Once it was time, they slipped away, Asterin the only one to take notice of their departure. 

The assessment was being held in a large, circular training room. There were dummies used for sparring practice, archery targets, tables with various things scattered across them, racks of every type of weapon imaginable, and Briar could smell the stink of sweat and fear coming from a gated room to the side. Humans to use as target practice or for whatever else they wanted. The Matron stood on a balcony, eyeing the training area like a hawk might eye its next meal.

She and Edda found a place sitting on a support beam, high up in the shadows.

The first witch to be assessed was a small, wiry thing with beady black eyes and black hair to match. 

“State your talent and then proceed to display it. You have a half hour.” 

“My talent is swordplay.” Her voice was high and reedy, and it wavered slightly at the end. She was decent, but nowhere near good enough to match even the worst member of their coven. The Matron, after a moment’s consideration, let her continue on to the next phase.

The next three hours consisted of similar demonstrations. Quite a few witches were cut, but a decent number still passed. So far, there were only three who showed any talent. Two were rather talented at swordplay, although they were still towards the lower end of the talent spectrum in their coven. The third was skilled with a bow, but nowhere near as good as Imogen.

She straightened a bit, her focus sharpening when Vesta entered the training room. Her red hair was braided back and her black and gold eyes gleamed with a feral amusement.

“State your talent and then proceed to display it. You have a half hour.” The Matron repeats the words she’s said to every contestant.

Vesta lifts her chin, eyes glinting. “Release one of the men,” she says, tilting her head toward the gated off room. It had yet to be used.

The Matron inclined her head, and the gate was lifted long enough to allow a terrified human male to be shoved out.

He was sweating profusely, the scent of fear so strong it drowned out everything else. The whites of his eyes were showing as he backed slowly away from Vesta. She smiled at him and while it was stunningly beautiful, there was nothing kind in it. She stalked slowly towards him, like a plains cat stalking an animal, her steps slow and measured.

“Don’t be afraid, handsome, I’m not going to hurt you.” Her voice had a lulling quality to it. The man froze, his eyes darting. She smiled at him again, and this one was less terrifying. The man still looked nervous, but less so now. His eyes darted up to look at the Matron.

“Don’t look at her, look at me.” Her voice was still coaxing, but it held more of a command. He obeyed.

“What- what do you- what am I doing here?” he choked out.

“We needed something simple done, nothing too strenuous. But us witches aren’t known for our communication skills.” She flashed him that disarming smile again, this time from only five feet away. The man relaxed more than he should considering there was a predator in the room. Not that it would help. Vesta could tear him to shreds no matter what he did. She simply enjoyed luring them in.

He didn’t stand a chance. She was two feet away now, and she cleared the distance in the blink of an eye. He barely had time to open his mouth to scream before she ripped his throat out with her iron nails. He choked, staying standing for a moment, eyes wide, before he collapsed in a pool of blood. 

Vesta flicked away her iron nails, and stepped to the side of the body with a distasteful frown at her boots. Blood and leather really didn’t mix well. Vesta looked up at the Matron, holding herself with a certain air of haughty confidence.

The Matron studied her for a moment, her eyes and expression unreadable, even to her, before saying, “You may continue on to the next portion of the competition.”

“Thank you, Matron,” she said as she bowed before she turned on her heel and exited the room.

The Matron waved a distasteful hand to indicate someone should take care of the body, and Briar leaned back against the beam with a smirk on her face. Two more contestants passed before Ghislaine entered. She was holding a leather satchel, and she had an excited glint in her eyes.

The Matron repeated the obligatory rules and Ghislaine smiled. “Poisons,” she said, sounding very satisfied with herself. “I can mix every poison imaginable as well as identify all of them.”

The Matron gestured to a row of plants. “Demonstrate.”

She spent a couple minutes mixing and once she was ready she moved to the row of plants.The first plant she poured a potion on disintegrated into dust in under five seconds. The second boiled from the inside out, leaving it a burned out husk. The third appeared unaffected until Ghislaine touched it and revealed it had completely solidified it. 

“This is different from paralysis you see. This kills whatever it is by solidifying their entire body. No blood flow or anything. Paralysis isn’t harmful, simply immobilizing the person.”

The fifth plant simply withered and died.

“I have various other poisons. Some are used more for torture than assassination, but all the rest won’t do anything obvious to the plants.”

“You may pass,” the Matron said calmly. Ghislaine grinned as she packed her satchel and exited the room.

Five more contestants pass, all failed, before Sorrel is up. 

“My demonstration is my speed.” She hefts a sword and tests its weight before setting her sights on the dummies. She tears through them quickly and efficiently. Her footwork is flawless and she moves so quickly it looks almost as if she doesn’t touch the floor. When she is done, the dummies are scattered across the floor in pieces.

“You have passed.”

Once the floor has been cleared, the Matron calls in the next contestant and Faline and Fallon stroll in. There’s a kind of wicked glee the twins exude that makes most people uneasy, and rightly so. 

When asked for their talent Faline simply bares her teeth in what Briar supposes is a grin and says, “Brutality.”

Without being asked, the Matron nods for the rest of the men to be released. Unlike Vesta, the demon twins don’t bother trying to put the men at ease. They simply unsheathe their iron nails and teeth and rip them to shreds. Not really in the mood for a massacre, Briar slumps back against the beam and closes her eyes, the screams of men being torn apart piece by piece ringing in her ears.

Once the twins are done, the entire arena is covered in blood and body parts. The twins are standing in the middle of the carnage, grinning like idiots.

“You’ve passed,” the Matron says impassively. “Tell the witches that the assessment is over for today. We will resume tomorrow.” The twins nod in unison before leaving.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” Edda asks as they make their way to Manon to report.

She thinks of the carnage and the screams, the carelessness with which they court death. She wonders if it’s all necessary. She thinks of all the witches who will die in this competition because even though death isn’t the goal, they’re witches, and death was a fact of life for them. The competition is dangerous and witches are going to die. She wonders if it’s a waste of life. But all she says is “Yes. I do.”


	12. Edda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the second half of the assessment part of the competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, this took longer than I was hoping, but it's done! Yay! I hope y'all like it.

Edda and Briar were awake before anyone else in the Keep. Last night Manon had told them they would go over their reports on the competitors in the morning, leaving them to sleep. She followed her cousin down the hallway, the eerie gray light of impending dawn lighting the way. This time of the morning was one of her favorite times. Blackbeak Keep was stone and there were long stretches of corridors without windows. This early, no one had been by to light the sconces, so the keep was intermittently lit with the watery gray light of the coming dawn. There was a quiet sort of anticipation in the air. The knowledge that soon, the keep would be bustling with activity, but right now, in this moment, it felt like  _ hers. _ It felt like she and Briar were the only people in the world. They were the only ones awake, and there was a certain contentment in that knowledge. She relished these moments where she was free of obligation.

When they arrived at Manon’s study, she wasn’t there yet. To be fair, they were half an hour early, though. They didn’t have to wait long however. Barely ten minutes later, Manon swept into the study, red cloak billowing behind her. She had come back with it after her first mission hunting Crochans. She settled herself at the desk and looked at them expectantly.

“Everyone did well. Vesta demonstrated her ability to get past someone’s guard, Ghislaine poisons, Sorrel her agility, Faline and Fallon brutality. The only three witches who pose any sort of threat are Britta, Isis, and Laken. Britta and Laken are talented with weapons, but they’re still rather unimpressive. Isis is good with a bow, but Imogen will best her easily.”

Manon nodded. “I want you to watch the rest of the assessment and report back to me.”

The two Shadows nodded before fading away.

We found the same perch overlooking the training area as last time. The Matron took the same place overlooking the arena.

Thea and Kaya were first. They entered together, their eyes, brown and blue respectively, glittered with excitement. It had been a point of soreness with their mothers that their eyes had no gold, Edda knew. The same way it was with most families. Edda and Briar had dealt with the disappointment as well. They both had a belt with daggers slung across their waists and a sword sheathed across their back. They both carried their brooms. Each witch carved their own ironwood broom before they left on their first mission. It was an important step in any witch’s life. They made their own broom and whether it was perfect or had a little quirk, it was  _ theirs.  _

The Matron repeated the same words she had to every other contestant. “We are going to demonstrate our skills on brooms.” Thea said for both of them.

The Matron gestured for them to show them. The lovers mounted their brooms and soared into the air.

They soared into the air, circling around each other. First the two of them dove in sync, throwing their daggers at the targets scattered throughout the room. They moved through the room, hitting each target dead-on. Once they were out of daggers, they soared back into the air. They both unsheathed their swords, and darted in. The clash of steel rang out through the training area. They clashed before breaking away and circling again. Thea dove toward Kaya bringing her sword up in an arc which Kaya blocked. Kaya then lashed out with her foot to knock Thea’s sword arm away, before she attacked again. The sparring continued until Kaya knocked Thea’s sword away. Thea held up her hands in surrender and Kaya grinned before lowering her sword. The two of them circled to the ground before dismounting their brooms.

The Matron’s expression remained unreadable as always, but she inclined her head a bit. “You may continue on to the next stage of the competition.”

The two lovers grinned and bowed before leaving. 

Beside her, Briar sat up. “We’re up next,” she murmured. They both stood, but before they could leave the Matron’s voice rang through the room.

“You can come down now,” she said calmly. Briar and I exchanged anxious glances, but one didn’t ignore the Matron. They hadn’t brought their brooms, so they hopped down to a lower beam before dropping to the ground. They rolled to their feet to stand together before the Matron.

She smiled at us, cold and calculating. “It is your turn, but I think you have demonstrated your skills well enough,” she said, inclining her head toward the beam they had been perched on. “You both may advance to the next stage. I give you permission to remain for the rest of the competitors. You may return to your place.”

Imogen was up next. She strolled into the room with a calm, quiet confidence that only Sorrel could rival. 

“State your skill and then demonstrate it.”

“I am an amazing fighter- daggers, swords, but I am best at archery,” Imogen said.

She picked over the table, testing the weight and grip of the daggers. She picked up three daggers. She turned to the row of targets and threw them one by one and heit each one dead center. Then she picked up three more daggers and moved, rolling before throwing the daggers and hitting all three dead center again. Next she picked up two broadswords before turning to a dummy. She flipped them before attacking the dummies with the famed Blackbeak ferocity. The dummy was in pieces on the floor in under a minute. She replaced the swords on the rack and turned to the bows and quivers. She chose a bow and a quiver of arrows. Slinging the quiver over her shoulder, she turned to the archery targets. Pulling back the string on her bow, she notched an arrow. She fired arrow after arrow into the targets. She took off moving and firing, again and again. When she was finished, each arrow she had fired was perfectly aimed. Some arrows had been fired literally on top of each other, the shots were so perfect.

When Imogen was done, she turned toward the Matron, letting the bow dangle from her fingers.

“You may pass,” the Matron said in a monotone voice.

Imogen bowed before striding out, depositing her bow and empty quiver on a table.

The next few contestants passed in a blur. Half had failed, but half had passed. There had been no one of note aside from a witch who was fast on her feet and skilled with a sword and another witch who, while not displaying anything above average talent had a cunningness to her expression and a sharpness in her eyes that made Edda wary.

They were down to the last two contestants and Edda knew they were Lin and Asterin. Lin was first. She strolled into the room with the same lazy arrogance all the Thirteen displayed. It was a moniker they had given themselves early on. It wasn’t one they used in public, as it wasn’t official that they were even a coven. But it would be. And they would earn the right to that title. She bowed and listened while the Matron said the same words she had to every other witch.

“I am especially skilled with my iron teeth and nails.” Lin’s voice was clear, calm, and collected.

Edda knew that first hand. She had seen Lin tear into people with a ferocity, although she didn’t always use her nails. In fact, she often used her daggers, or even a sword. It was only when she was furious that she used her nails. Edda had seen her rip a witch’s face off with her iron teeth after the witch had made the mistake of calling her by the name her soft-hearted mother had given her. Lin felt that iron nails and teeth were a bit more primitive and brutal. They didn’t make the clean cuts and slices of a sword. They tore flesh and one could argue it was all the more painful because of it. 

The Matron gestured toward the dummies and Lin proceeded to rip them to shreds.

“It’s all well to tear apart dummies, but what about an actual witch? I wish to see you spar with another witch using your teeth and nails.” The Matron gestured at one of the side doors and it opened to reveal a witch. She stepped into the arena and Lin grinned.

The two moved to the center of the room. When the Matron gestured, they attacked. Lin went in first with a swipe of her iron nails, but the other witch blocked, and attacked with her other hand. But Lin was faster and she dodged before sweeping out with her leg. The other witch wasn’t expecting it and went down hard. Lin landed on top and drove her iron nails through the witch’s arm. The witch screamed and threw Lin off her. Lin landed on her feet as the witch spun to face her, fury sparking in her eyes. Blood welled from the cut on her right shoulder.

This time the other witch struck first. She lashed out with her nails, but Lin blocked. Lin pulled the same move the other witch had and attacked with her other hand. The witch shifted, and Lin’s nails caught in her leathers. While she was distracted the witch brought her other hand up right toward Lin’s face. Lin tried to disentangle the hand the witch had blocked, but she wouldn’t let go. The other witch had a triumphant grin on her face. However, it slowly changed to shock and then pain as Lin reached out and snapped her iron teeth shut around the witch’s wrist inches from her face. Lin jerked her head and the witch howled. Lin released her and the witch jerked away, freeing Lin’s hands. When she made to throw herself at Lin again, the Matron stopped her.

“Enough. Lin you may pass.” She turned her eyes to the fuming other witch. “You may see a healer. I have no more need of you today. The witch stalked back the way she came as Lin bowed and exited through the main door.

Edda felt a slight bit of apprehension. Asterin was next. It was no secret the Matron disliked her and although Edda was confident in Asterin’s skills, she couldn’t help but be slightly worried.

Asterin swaggered through the door, confident as ever. Most of the Thirteen had a natural confidence, even arrogance some might say, about them, but Asterin was flat out  _ cocky _ . She had a wild rebellious streak that most witches frowned upon, especially the Matron. Manon, however, seemed to not mind it. As long as Asterin was respectful to her of course. She let Asterin get away with more than others, although she was Manon’s second and it was her job to advise and help Manon make decisions. Manon had to draw the line with Asterin sometimes but that was where Sorrel’s steady presence came in.

Asterin bowed to the Matron, although she injected enough arrogance into it it could be taken as disrespectful.

“Display your talent,” the Matron said, a slight hint of distaste in her words.

“The talent I will be displaying today is hand-to-hand combat. I would also like to say however that I am an excellent strategist, but that is not a talent that can be displayed so easily.”

The Matron made no acknowledgement of Asterin’s words, simply flicked her fingers. The same door as before opened, and a different witch stepped out.

Once again, the two moved toward the center of the room.

Edda knew the moment the fight began that it was going to be over before it really started. The witch lashed out with a punch that Asterin easily blocked, and then counterattacked with a punch of her own that landed solidly in the other witch’s gut. The witch staggered back before coming at Asterin again. She hadn’t learned at all from her last attack and didn’t have any better luck this time. Asterin let the fight go on for a few seconds more before she ended it. Grabbing the other witch’s wrist as she attacked, Asterin twisted it and hooked a leg out, using both grips to bring the witch to the ground. Asterin landed on top, one hand around the witch’s throat. She looked to the Matron who looked distinctly unimpressed but she waved a hand for Asterin to let the witch go. She scrambled to her feet before scurrying out of the room, head down.

“I am rather unimpressed, but you may pass. Let us hope you show more skill in the other areas of the competition.”

The Matron didn’t wait for a response, simply turned and left the balcony. Asterin’s hands curled into fists as she stared after her. She didn’t linger long. Her stride was stiff and Edda could see the anger lining her body, but she loosened her body into the smooth, cocky walk she was known for before she exited the training room.

Edda exchanged a glance with her cousin. She had a feeling would be hard for Asterin more so than the others. She wondered what, exactly, the Matron was planning for the next stages of the competition. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the balcony where the Matron had stood before she followed her cousin into the shadows to tell Manon of what had transpired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I just wanted to note, comments are GREATLY appreciated. Even little ones like 'great chapter!' or 'I really like this fic' are really nice and help drive me to keep writing and get better. I also love constructive criticism, and if there is anything you would like to see feel free to tell me. I can't promise I will add it, but I will keep it in mind when writing future chapters.


	13. Thea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of the next part of the competition, and there's a little bit of Thea/Kaya fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, there is some Thea/Kaya fluff in this chapter, and I hope it's somewhat accurate!! Sometimes I feel like it's hard to write the Thirteen because they get so little air time, but I did my best! I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!

Thea woke to the familiar weight of another body curled around her. She opened her eyes to the watery grey pre-dawn light. Kaya slept beside her, arms wrapped around Thea’s waist and legs tangled together. Kaya’s auburn hair was splayed out on her pillow, her face holding a peace and relaxation Thea didn’t often see outside their bedroom. Thea reached up to run her hand through Kaya’s long locks. The fact that Kaya didn’t wake was a testament to how much the other witch trusted her. These times were rare where Thea had a moment to simply watch her lover sleep. At night they were often too tired to do more than manage to get their clothes and weapons off before falling into bed. Her internal clock told her they had to be up in five minutes, and she regretted the need to leave the bed so early. She missed the lazy mornings with Kaya, where all they did was eat and lounge around in bed. But she knew those days were mostly over. Those days belonged to younger witches, witches who didn’t have responsibilities. To the Blackbeaks. To their coven. The thought sobered her a bit. But for now, she was content to take these stolen moments between the two of them. When Thea’s internal clock told her that their five minutes were up, she gently brushed Kaya’s hair back from her face.

“Kaya,” she murmured quietly, kissing her brow. She kissed the corner of her eye, the sharp angle of her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth, before finally settling her mouth over Kaya’s, her kiss soft. Kaya stirred beneath her, coming awake slowly, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks as her eyes opened. Sleepy blue eyes glinted at her. Thea pulled back before brushing a kiss across her nose.

“It’s time to get up.”

Kaya blinked and sighed before stretching like a lazy cat. She rolled herself out of bed and stretched again. Thea watched from her spot on the bed, tracking each movement of her body, each muscle as it rippled under tanned skin. Kaya tossed a grin over her shoulder as she sauntered toward the bathroom.

“You coming?” she called.

Thea flashed a feral grin and followed her lover into the bathroom. They bathed together, before strapping on their weapons and leathers.

“What do you think today’s challenge will be?” Kaya asked as she braided her hair.

Thea frowned. “I don’t know. I have a feeling the Matron will want to cover combat and archery at some point. But I’m not sure when or what exactly the challenges will be,” she said as she tied off her hair.

The Thirteen had taken to gathering in Manon’s study or the training room before each challenge. They would chat and warm up, passing the time until the competition started.

When they arrived, most of the Thirteen were already there. The two lovers settled onto a couch next to each other as they waited for the last of the witches to arrive. Once everyone was there, the room slowly became silent as they looked at Manon.

Manon looked up from the desk. “I’ve gotten word that the most likely challenge today will be a duel. I don’t know the specifics and the rules, but I expect you to all do well and be prepared. I pulled what strings I could to make sure none of the Thirteen are matched against each other.”

There was a general murmur of assent. The room had just started to get louder again when there was a knock at the door.

The witch at the door bowed before speaking. “Heir, the competition is starting. The Matron requests your presence in the Great Hall.” 

The witches made their way to the Great Hall. Manon left them to join her grandmother on the balcony as the witches gathered below.

“Today is the second stage of the competition.” The Matron’s voice was loud and firm. “Today is a duel. Each witch will fight one duel. You will choose a weapon- a dagger, a sword, or just your iron teeth and nails. The winner moves on to the next stage. There are two ways to win; knock your opponent out of the ring or kill them. There are ten rings. They are organized by age. Find your ring leader and they will tell you when and who you fight. There will be a break for lunch at midday.”

Thea and the rest of the Thirteen wound their way through the crowd to find their ring master. Thea was toward the end of the day, after the lunch break. Half of the Thirteen were before the lunch break, half after. Kaya was the first of the Thirteen up, and she was in ring 1. Thea followed her to the ring. The two of them found spots near the ring and soaked in the energy around the ring as they waited for Kaya to be up. 

When they called her name, Kaya gave her a flashy grin before ducking into the ring. The other witch, a young thing that was obviously nervous, picked up two knives with hands that trembled slightly. Kaya considered for a moment before she mimicked the other witch and picked up two daggers. She flipped them in her hands, shifting on her feet. The ring leader began the countdown. Kaya began to bounce on the balls of her feet, ready to move. The ring leader hit zero and Kaya shot forward, an arrow straight to its mark. The witch cried out in surprise and stumbled back as Kaya slashed with her dagger. The dagger missed making a deep cut and instead made a thin slice across the top of her left shoulder. She barely had time to recover before Kaya struck again. This time it was her right shoulder. Kaya danced back, giving the witch a second to recover. But then she was back at it again. Thin, shallow slices that hurt but caused no real damage. Kaya continued like this for a while before she seemed to decide she wanted to finish it. Kaya darted forward, feinting left. Kaya ducked under the other witch’s wild slice, and grabbed her, pressing the dagger to her throat. The witch froze, barely breathing. She could see the moment Kaya decided to have mercy on the other witch. Kaya swept her leg out, knocking the witches legs from under her at the same time she gave her a hard shove to the middle of her back. The witch fell out of the ring, face first and landed hard on the ground.

“Kaya Blackbeak is the winner,” the ring leader's voice echoed over the gathered crowd. Kaya grinned, throwing her arms up before she leapt out of the ring. When Kaya appeared next to Thea, she pressed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back. Thea didn’t bother saying anything. Kaya knew she had done well and she didn’t need an ego boost.

Imogen was the next witch of the Thirteen who had their duel. She was in ring 5. When it got close to her turn, Thea and Kaya found their way toward ring 5. The duel before Imogen’s was just finishing up when they arrived.

She watched as one witch slit the other’s throat, the body dropping to the ground. The crowd cheered as the ring leader called the victor. The body was cleared out quickly and the ring was given a brief cleansing, just enough to make sure no one would slip in the puddle of blood. The ring leader called Imogen and another witch Thea didn’t know into the ring. Imogen picked up a sword and flipped it in her hand. The other witch didn’t take a weapon, preferring her iron nails and teeth. When the ring leader finished her count down, the other witch launched herself at Imogen, slashing with her nails. Imogen blocked with her sword and kicked with her right leg. Thea heard the crunch of bone as Imogen shattered the other witch’s knee cap. The witch’s scream was cut off mid-shout as Imogen sliced her sword through the air, taking her head off before the witch even hit the ground. It had all happened so fast that the crowd and the ring leader had to take a moment to process it. When they did, cheers erupted as the ring leader called Imogen as the victor.

That was Imogen for you. She didn’t waste time, didn’t like to play with someone before she killed them. She used simple, raw, brutal talent to take down her opponents.

“Nice,” Kaya said mildly as Imogen hit the ground beside them. Imogen’s only response was a brief grin.

“We’re going to go watch the twins at 6. They’re back to back. You coming?” Thea asked. 

“Let me put this away,” she held up the bloody sword, “and I’ll meet you there.”

The lovers made the short walk to ring 6. The ring leader had already begun the countdown on Faline’s duel when they arrived. Faline had gone for her nails while the other witch held a dagger. When the count down hit zero, Faline took a swipe with her iron nails. The other witch blocked the first swipe, but the second got her in her side, leaving a short, but deep slice. The witch stumbled back and Faline stalked after her, content to take her time. Faline liked to play with her prey. The witch watched her for a moment before she tried to attack. Faline blocked her easily and got in a good slice to her leg. The game of cat and mouse went on for a while until Faline got bored. Moving almost too fast for the witch to process Faline swiped out with her nails and took off her right arm. It hit the floor of the ring with a dull  _ thud _ . The witch’s eyes widened and then rolled. She didn’t even have a chance to scream before Faline was attacking again. In less than three seconds, Faline had dismantled the witch completely, leaving only severed body parts behind. As the ring leader called Fallon the victor, Thea felt Imogen slide up beside her. Faline exited the ring, grinning, and made her way to stand with them.

“That was fun,” she said cheerfully. Thea snorted and Kaya rolled her eyes. But they all quieted as the ring leader announced the next two duelers. 

Fallon sauntered into the ring with the same irreverence as her twin.

Both witches chose iron teeth and nails. Like most of the others, this witch didn’t stand a chance. Fallon apparently wasn’t in the mood to play today because the moment the count was done, she was ripping out the other witch’s throat. It was even faster than Imogen’s. There was a stunned silence until the ring leader called Fallon the winner. Thea blocked out the noise of the crowd as Fallon came up beside them.

“I’m going to eat,” Fallon said. Faline gave a jerk of her head, indicating she was going with her.

“I’m going to go too. I’m hungry but I also want to make sure they don’t murder anyone else. This was sanctioned. Anything else they do isn’t.”

“Good luck,” Thea smirked.

Imogen rolled her eyes before following the twins.

“We have a little bit of time before Edda’s duel,” Kaya said, her eyes holding a suggestion.

“That we do,” Thea murmured.

**[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []**

They emerged from a closet half an hour later, lips suspiciously swollen and bruised and eyes unusually bright.

Thea and Kaya found their way to ring 9 where Edda was having her duel. 

“Edda Blackbeak and Blaise Blackbeak,” the ring leader called.

A sturdy witch leapt into the ring, eyes bright as she grabbed a sword. Blaise swept her eyes around the ring, her face betraying her slight confusion at where Edda was. A murmur rippled through the crowd as Edda failed to appear. Blaise spun around in a circle, searching the crowd. The crowd watched, which is why they all missed Edda’s entrance. When Blaise spun back around, she nearly jumped out of her skin and the crowd gasped and collectively took a step back. Edda was standing in the center of the ring, directly in the torchlight. She had two daggers held loosely in her fingers. Blaise shifted uneasily, fidgeting with her sword. The ring leader began the count down, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

Blaise visibly tried to shake off her unease and charged Edda. But before Blaise reached her, Edda simply appeared to vanish. Even Thea could barely track her and she’d had years of practice. Edda slid out of the shadows behind Blaise and slashed both daggers across her throat before the other witch even knew she was there. Blaise choked, her eyes going wide as she slumped to the ground. There was no cheering this time and the crowd surged farther away from the ring. The ring leader called Edda the victor, her unease obvious this time. Edda disappeared from the ring and reappeared beside Thea and Kaya.

“Nice touch,” Kaya said thoughtfully.

“I thought so,” Edda murmured back. 

Thea didn’t bother asking if Edda wanted to watch Lin’s duel with them. If she wanted to watch she would, from somewhere no one would see her.

Lin’s was the last of the Thirteen to have their duel before the midday break. They made their way to ring 2. 

The fight was already underway when they arrived. Lin only had her iron nails and teeth while the other witch had a sword. The other witch had a few small cuts and bruises, but Lin had no visible wounds. As they watched, Lin darted in and made another cut to the witch’s already wounded arm. The witch roared, her anger getting the better of her, and she charged. Lin grinned, setting herself. At the last second, Lin darted out of the way, sticking out her foot. The other witch flew head over heels out of the ring. The ring leader declared Lin the winner and she hopped out of the ring.

“Why didn’t you kill her?” Kaya asked.

“Vesta bet me I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself from killing her. Thea chuckled.

“How did everyone do?”

“Everyone who had a duel won. You were the last before midday.”

“Let’s hope the afternoon set does as good as we did.” And although Thea wasn’t superstitious- she believed in skill, not luck- she couldn't help but think those words sounded slightly ominous.


	14. Fallon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the afternoon portion of the duels. It is set from Fallon's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Another chapter! I am really proud of myself for posting this so soon! So, I'm not sure I did the demon twins justice, but I tried. I hope you all enjoy, and as always comments and kudos are appreciated!

Fallon sauntered after her twin. She was feeling snacky and her twin, like most times, had the same thought. As she walked, she felt Thea behind her. It was 50/50 that she was there to either stop them from doing whatever stupid, insane, dangerous thing she assumed they were going to do, or she was going to sit back and be entertained by whatever stupid, insane, dangerous thing she assumed they were going to do. They, for once, actually  _ didn’t  _ have anything planned aside from getting food. One worked up an appetite ripping people to shreds.

Both twins picked up an apple, and Thea declined any food. They slid onto a bench as they munched on their food. Both twins had already won their duels, so there was no hurry to finish. They had decided to watch the afternoon duels since they hadn’t watched the morning ones.

They spent the midday break munching through a variety of snacks. The rest of the Thirteen, including Manon, joined them once the morning duels were finished. 

Asterin was the first afternoon duel in ring 4. Manon rejoined her grandmother on the balcony, and the other witches from the morning duels declined to watch the rest of the duels. Aside from the twins of course. When the ring leader called for Asterin, she leapt into the ring with a lethal grace, and a wicked grin on her face. The other witch who ducked into the ring with her had a shrewd air about her, and she moved almost silently. There were almost exact opposites. Asterin was bold, loud, allowed her emotions to dictate her actions, obvious in everything that she did. The other witch was quiet, calm, silent, easy to overlook. Both witches picked a set of identical hunting knives. When the ring leader finished the count down, Asterin launched herself at the other witch. She feigned left, but the other witch saw right through Asterin and blocked her swing. Asterin lashed out with her leg, but the other witch dove over it, rolling and coming up behind Asterin. Asterin whirled, dodging the dagger aiming for her heart. Asterin danced away, her eyes glinting as she assessed the other witch. The dance that followed was a way for the witches to assess each other. When they decided they had felt each other out enough, the real duel began. The other witch lunged, Asterin parried and spun away before she attacked. The other witch dodged and lashed out with her daggers, distracting as she swept out with her leg. Asterin saw it though, blocking the daggers and side-stepping the leg. And so it went. Block, perry, attack, lunge, block. Over and over, neither witch seeming to gain the upper hand. Eventually, however, Asterin landed a somewhat lucky blow that off-balanced the other witch. Asterin wasted no time. Diving in she went straight for the kill. The other witch didn’t have time to block before Asterin was slicing her throat open.

Asterin’s harsh panting was the only sound in the silence until the ring leader called Asterin as the victor, setting off the crowd. Fallon grimaced. She loved bloodshed, more than anyone there except, perhaps her twin, but she did not like noise. None of the Thirteen liked crowds, none of them really liked people in general except for the special few they bonded with. But the twins especially so. They had spent so much time with only each other and quite a few people would argue they were insane, so they hadn’t had much human interaction. Fallon gave Asterin a little finger wave in acknowledgement of her victory, before dragging her twin toward the relatively quieter area where Sorrel’s duel would be taking place.

The twins lounged around, watching as two other witches were eliminated before it was Sorrel’s turn. Sorrel declined a weapon, although she wouldn’t need one. Sorrel was one of the quietest members of their group, excluding the shadows. She had a calm, solid presence about her that came in very handy whenever Asterin and Manon were arguing. Despite Asterin being Manon’s second, and below her in status, Asterin never hesitated to call Manon’s bullshit. There were exceptions of course, but Manon relied on Asterin to tell her when she was being an idiot, whether she admitted it or not. None of the other witches dared speak to Manon that way, but Manon and Asterin had a special bond.

Fallon could tell the moment the other witch stepped into the ring that it was going to be a short fight, even before she disregarded the offered daggers or sword. The other witch was much too cocky and overconfident. And Fallon was right. The fight lasted precisely two seconds. As the ring leader began the countdown, the other witch looked out at the crowd, preening. When the count hit zero, the witch turned to Sorrel with a smirk, but Sorrel was gone. The witch whipped around, but she was much too slow. Sorrel’s slice across the witch’s throat was so clean, even using her iron nails, that it was a moment before the wound began to bleed. The witch was dead before she hit the ground.

This time, the twins didn’t stick around to hear the cheers. Ghislaine’s duel was already underway, and they stopped by for a minute to watch. The other witch had a multitude of small cuts and bruises, and Ghislaine was spinning two blood-covered daggers lazily as she grinned. People often mistook the fact that Ghislaine liked books as weakness. They thought she didn’t like to fight and wasn’t any good at it. She was, in fact,  _ very _ good at it. And she liked it. Out of all of them, Ghislaine was most likely to play with her prey. Faline and Fallon simply shredded, and the others were brutal in their killing, but Ghislaine didn’t simply kill. Ghislaine’s opponent might very well bleed out from the small wounds before Ghislaine got around to actually killing her. The twins left her in favor of watching Vesta’s duel. Ghislaine would most likely still be at it when Vesta was done.

The countdown on Vesta’s duel had just started when the twins arrived. Both witches had swords in hand. Unlike most other duels, when the count hit zero, the two witches began circling each other instead of launching themselves at each other immediately. Like Asterin’s duel, the two witches spent some time simply feeling each other out. They were rather evenly matched, but Vesta didn’t simply have skills with a sword on her side. The crowd around the ring was loud, so Fallon couldn’t hear what Vesta said to the other witch, but she could see the anger in her eyes. The other witch struck, but it was noticeably sloppier than before. Vesta continued talking, even as she blocked and then parried. It was a slow build, Vesta simply taunting and blocking the other witch’s attacks as she became angier and more frenzied. Finally, the witch’s rage boiled over and she threw herself at the red haired witch, leaving her stomach dangerously exposed. Vesta easily side-stepped the strike before burying her sword in the other witch’s guts. As the witch dropped to her knees, Vesta swept her sword out again, the light glinting off the blood covered blade as she decapitated her. The witch’s head rolled to a stop just shy of the edge of the ring. Vesta threw her arms out in triumph as the ring leader called her the victor. 

The twins wound their way through the maze of people and rings. They passed Ghislain’s ring just in time to see her rip her opponent’s throat out. Ghislaine gave them a bright smile when she saw them, and Fallon returned it before the twins continued on.

“Briar’s duel is starting at the same time as Thea’s,” Fallon said. “I’m going to watch Briar.”

Her twin made a contemplative noise, before inclining her head toward the ring in front of them. “I suppose I’ll watch Thea then.” She smirked and added, “We can compare notes after.”

Which was how Fallon once again found herself navigating through the maze of rings to find the one where Briar’s duel would take place.

Fallon carved out a small space for herself where no one would bother her. If anyone was stupid enough to encroach on her space, she flashed her iron teeth and they backed off. She might not be part of Manon’s coven yet, but most witches knew who she was and what she was to Manon. 

Fallon watched with interest as the competitors were called to step into the ring. Although Edda and Briar were cousins, had grown up together, learned to do everything together, and were both Manon’s shadows, they fought differently. Fallon hadn’t been there for Edda’s duel that morning, but she had heard about it from Thea. Edda had taken the spooky route of just disappearing and reappearing and the duel had been all of about two seconds. While Briar fought in a somewhat similar style, it was still different and her duel was longer. Briar’s opponent picked up two daggers, while Briar opted for her iron nails and teeth. The other witch had the sense to look slightly uneasy, but she had relaxed a bit once she had the daggers in hand. Big mistake. The daggers wouldn’t make a difference. While the witch had obviously heard of Briar, she clearly hadn’t realized exactly how dangerous she was.

When the count hit zero, Briar set herself and waited for the other witch to come to her. The witch waited a beat before the witch darted forward. She swiped out with a testing blow towards Briar’s arm. But as she slashed, Briar kind of seemed to. . . shift. Suddenly she was three inches left of where she’d been before, out of the way of the knife slash. The witch staggered, off-balanced by the sudden move. She looked a little creeped out, eyes darting around as though she wasn’t quite sure she was seeing properly. Briar gave her a little smirk. It continued like this for a while, Briar vanishing for a moment and reappearing just out of the way of whatever attack the witch threw at her. Briar seemed to be in a forgiving mood tonight, because she didn’t kill her opponent. When she seemed to tire of the sort of cat and mouse game that had been playing, she simply stepped out of the shadows behind her opponent and gave her a little shove, and the witch toppled over the edge of the ring with a very undignified shriek. The crowd was a little less excited, because there had been very little blood drawn and no death, but Briar was unconcerned. Like her cousin, Briar simply vanished from the ring rather than exiting the normal way. As she wove her way through the crowd toward Manon’s study, knowing her twin would find her, she mulled over today. It had gone well, but they still had at least two more challenges to overcome. She hoped they would include more violence than the last two had. The duel was violent, but it was relatively short, and ripping one witch to shreds wasn’t nearly enough to sate either of the twins. She had just exited the chamber where the duels had been held when her twin joined her.

“How’d it go,” Fallon asked.

“Thea went straight for the dramatic. Stabbed her in the heart, with the usual Thea theatrical spin. It was quite entertaining.” Faline raised her brow in silent question.

“There was no death,” Fallon said mournfully. “But I will admit it was amusing to watch the witch slowly lose her mind. She couldn’t hit Briar and couldn't seem to figure out why. She was rather undignified when Briar tossed her over the edge too.”

Faline snorted. “You up for some fun tonight after the debrief?” It was what the twins had taken to calling Manon’s after challenge meetings.

Fallon grinned. “Always.”


	15. Vesta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the next part of the competition plus some domestic stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **IMPORTANT PLEASE READ So, I just wanted to explain some things for this chapter. So, the board game the Thirteen play is based on monopoly with a few twists. First, all the squares are kinda edited to fit the world better, although that doesn’t really come up. Second, the chance/community chest cards are never have I ever statements. They are called Statement Cards. So, if you land on the chance or community chest square, you pick a card, and read the statement. If you have done that thing, you have to drink, including the person who drew the card. At that point they can ask for specifics on when/how/what they did that thing. If the person doesn’t want to elaborate, they take another shot. I thought it would be a fun twist, so I hope you all enjoy it.**END OF IMPORTANT STUFF
> 
> So, my friend really, really, really wanted to see the witches play never have I ever, so I tried to write it in there. We came to the conclusion that since the witches weren’t very old, and hadn’t like yet lived? That it was kinda hard to write. So, I will be bringing this back in a later chapter (hopefully). One thing I had trouble with was coming up with statements for never have I ever, so I would appreciate any suggestions!

Vesta was, most decidedly,  _ not  _ a morning person. Vesta loved the quiet anonymity night provided. It was a peaceful time where she could laze by the fire and read or do anything she wanted, knowing there was no pressure to do anything. In the mornings, there was always a silent knowledge that she had limited time before the outside world required her presence, and she  _ hated  _ that feeling. It made her feel caged. She knew she had time before she had to do anything, but she still felt trapped and anxious. For some reason, it was different at night. Objectively, Vesta knew that she had to go to sleep at some point; it was, after all, necessary. But late at night, after she had spent hours reading or simply enjoying the peace night offered, sleep didn’t feel like work. When she was younger and hadn’t yet realized she was a night owl, she would try to go to sleep at the same time everyone else did. She would spend hours tossing and turning, and sleep began to feel like work. She grew to hate sleep. It was as elusive as mist, and it seemed the moment she caught it, it was dissolving under the slowly strengthening light of the sun. In later years, she and sleep had worked out an arrangement, and she no longer hated it. But that often translated to grumpiness in the mornings, caused mostly by the nagging knowledge that she had things to do, places to be. 

Which was why, the morning of the third stage of the competition, she was silently directing a very creative string of curse words, in multiple languages, at the Matron for requiring they be up so early. Vesta would never say these things out loud to  _ anyone _ , but it was there, a constant murmur. Vesta had never particularly liked the Matron. She had learned early on, from living with her mother, how to see through the various masks people wore as they went about their lives. And the Matron wore many. The Matron had the combination of cunning and dangerous ambition that could level cities, destroy governments, and shatter kingdoms. 

Vesta forced herself to put her musings aside and focus on the challenge ahead. The challenge was starting much earlier today than in the previous days. The Matron hadn’t given a reason, but Vesta suspected it was simply to throw in a twist to the challenges. Conditions were not always ideal when they were fighting, and lack of sleep would be one of the lesser worries. Vesta dressed quickly, braiding her hair in the same style all the Thirteen did, before she started for Manon’s study. It was still relatively quiet in the Keep, the only witches awake were the competitors. The challenge today was closed to the public. Only other competitors were allowed to watch this particular challenge; again Vesta suspected it was more to mess with their heads than for any substantial reason. 

Vesta was the last of the Thirteen to arrive at Manon’s study. Manon knew of her nightly habits, and allowed her to join them later than the rest of the Thirteen. As a result, it was barely five minutes before the doors were opened on a light knock, and they were informed the challenge would begin shortly.

The Thirteen filed out the door, and followed the witch not to the Great Hall, but towards the roof of Blackbeak Keep. When they arrived, the witch gestured for them to exit onto the roof before she vanished back the way they had come. The witches stepped into the bracing wind without complaint, even though they were not dressed for this weather. As they stepped onto the roof, it became clear the contestants were being gathered one by one or group by group. The contestants appeared from a variety of places along the roof in one’s or small clusters. It was clearer this was a much smaller group than when the competition had started. 

Once all the contestants had been gathered, the Matron began speaking. Manon had left them to join her grandmother when they arrived. They stood on a small raised dais in the center of the courtyard where they were gathered. The Matron’s voice rang out clear, even over the rushing wind.

“Today’s challenge is somewhat multi-faceted. You will demonstrate your skills in archery, knife throwing, and one other long range combat skill. You must hit inside the green circle on all targets to pass the archery test. For the knives, you will have three dummies. You may choose which places to hit. We will assess your choices and your degree of accuracy. As far as the last skill: impress us. If you fail the test, you will return to the Keep. If you pass you will be permitted to stay and watch the rest of the competitors.”

With that, the Matron and her heir turned and entered a small hallway while the contestants were ushered in a different direction. They wound their way across the roof, almost as intricate as the inside of the Keep. They finally arrived at a long stretch of open space, at the far end of which Vesta could see targets lined up. To their right was a separate section for knife throwing. Vesta didn’t see the Matron or her heir, but she knew they were watching.

As the witches who would be assessing them called the first witch up to shoot, Vesta settled in for a long morning.

Vesta spent most of the morning in a half daze. She was tuned in enough to have a general idea of her surroundings but she didn't really pay attention unless it was one of their own demonstrating. Asterin was the first of them to go. She aced her archery test as well as the knives. For her third skill, Asterin opted for battle axes, as most of the witches before her had. She passed with flying colors. 

Thea was the next witch of the Thirteen. She passed her first two tests easily. For her third test, she chose a crossbow, the first to choose something besides a battle axe. Once she passed, she went to stand beside Asterin.

The next three members of the Thirteen were Edda, Sorrel, and Kaya. They chose battle axes, a mace, and a javelin respectively.

Briar, Faline, Fallon, and Lin went in quick succession after them. Briar chose two short swords that hadn’t been made  _ for  _ throwing but worked just fine. Faline and Fallon both chose maces, and Lin opted for battle axes. 

A few more contestants passed, and then it was Vesta’s turn. Vesta took her time selecting her bow and quiver of arrows. She passed her archery test easily. For the knives, she chose the head, heart, and gut. Vesta picked a javelin for her third test. As she pulled her arm back, she settled her mind before she pulled her arm back and let it fly. The javelin went straight through where the dummy’s right eye would be and the witch nodded to indicate she had passed before moving on to the next contestant.

Vesta joined the rest of the Thirteen as they watched the other contestants go. It was a while before another of the Thirteen was up. Vesta watched Imogen step up to the shooting line. Imogen was the best of them with a bow, and it showed. Imogen put them all to shame, hitting dead center of every single target, not a centimeter off. She passed the knife test easily enough, and to no one’s surprise chose a crossbow for her third test. She aced it and came to stand next to the rest of them.

It was just nearing lunchtime when their last member, Ghislaine, was up. She passed her first two tests easily. For her third, she chose a javelin. Once she passed, she moved to join the group. By silent agreement, they moved farther from the challenge, and slightly out of the wind.

“Shall we stay?” Thea asked. “Or do we want to leave?” 

“I don’t think we need to stay for this particular test,” Vesta said. “I vote we get food and wait for Manon in the study. She, at least, will have to stay for the duration.”

Everyone seemed on board with getting food, so they made their way off the roof and back through Blackbeak Keep. When they arrived in the mess hall, they piled food onto trays before making their way towards Manon’s study.

Vesta collapsed rather ungracefully onto one of the couches, allowing herself a moment to relax.

“Scooch.” Vesta looked up to see Lin standing there. So scooch she did. Lin settled next to her on the couch, and Ghislaine soon joined them. They were slightly squashed against one another because the couch wasn’t quite big enough for three people, but none of them minded. Ghislaine wasted no time in pulling out a book to read. The demon twins settled onto the longest couch in the room, along with the Shadows. Thea and Kaya unsurprisingly took an armchair, Kaya practically in Thea’s lap. Sorrel, Imogen, and Asterin settled onto the remaining couch.

There was a comfortable silence in the room for a while, as they all ate. As they finished their food, quiet conversations began. Vesta was still eating, so she started slightly when Asterin suddenly groaned.

“I thought we said no sex in public spaces,” Asterin grumbled. This comment was directed toward Thea and Kaya, who were kissing, and looked like they were seconds away from doing a lot more than the acceptable bounds of PDA. 

“If you think this is sex, I have greatly misjudged you,” Thea said dryly. Asterin rolled her eyes.

“You were well on your way to full-on sex, and that is not something I need to see.”

Thea opened her mouth to respond, but Vesta interrupted them. “Now, now, children, let's not argue.”

Asterin and the lovers both gave her insulted looks. Vesta cocked an eyebrow at them, smirking. Beside her, Lin simply snorted.

Thea’s eyes brightened suddenly. “Does that mean we can pull each other’s hair and steal clothes without asking? I hope the lot of you like black.”

Then Asterin, catching on, smirked and said, “So who’s mommy and who’s daddy?”

Vesta rolled her eyes. “I should have seen that one coming.”

“You really should have,” drawled a new voice from the doorway. 

Asterin cursed, Ghislaine dropped her book, and Thea almost fell off Kaya’s lap. The only witches who seemed to know Manon was there before she spoke were the Shadows.

“I thought sneaking was the Shadows’ job,” Kaya said as Thea resituated herself on Kaya’s lap.

Manon prowled into the room with her signature lethal grace, plopping onto a chair. “It’s not my fault you didn’t notice me.”

Ghislaine, finally seeming to recover, suddenly gasped dramatically and lunged for where her book had fallen. “Oh my gosh, you poor baby! You’re going to be fine,” she soothed the book as she clutched it to her chest. She inspected the book, giving special care to the binding, making sure nothing was scuffed or bent. The rest of them watched her with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. When Ghislaine finished her inspection, she glowered at Manon slightly, before seeming to decide it would be safer for her book if she put it down. She set it on the little table to the right of the couch.

“Why are you here? I thought you would be watching the challenge until at least late afternoon,” Imogen said.

“We got through all the competitors pretty quickly and grandmother didn’t make me stick around.”

“Well, now that we’re all here and everything,” Fallon drawled, “how should we entertain ourselves?”

**[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []**

“ _ Cheater, _ ” screeched Ghislaine as she launched herself at Lin. Lin looked rather serene, sorting out her coins as Faline grabbed Ghislaine by the back of her leathers to keep her from tearing Lin’s eyes out. Ghislaine got snappish when someone interrupted her reading, but she was downright brutal whenever they played any sort of game, but especially this one. They were playing a game they affectionately called Drink or Die for a little over half an hour. The moniker came about because whenever they played, the witches always seemed to draw an unusual amount of Statement Cards. And when a Statement Card was drawn, you either drank or, well you died of embarrassment. Weapons had been set aside at the beginning of the game to try to help minimize the bloodshed. Edda and Briar traded being the banker, and this time it was Briar’s turn. 

“It’s not my fault you rolled badly,” Lin said, looking straight at Ghislaine as she dropped the coins she had just gotten from her one by one onto her pile, each one making a pronounced  _ clink  _ as they landed. This time it took both twins to hold Ghislaine back.

“I still think you cheated,” Ghislaine accused as she sat back. They all knew it wasn’t true though. Each witch had been extensively searched. Kaya had been carrying a few coins strategically placed along her body, Asterin an entire pouch.

“Yeah, yeah,” Thea said. “It’s my turn. Hand ‘em over.” She made grabby hands at the dice Ghislaine was still clutching. Still sulking and shooting Lin the stink eye, Ghislaine handed them over.

Thea held out both hands, cupping the dice, and made a big production of slowly shaking her hands before letting the dice roll. She rolled a six and a one.

There was utter silence as she slowly moved her figurine-- two daggers crossed over a shield-- the seven spaces. She landed on a space labeled  _ Anielle. _

“Does anyone own Anielle?” Edda asked.

Everyone collectively began looking through their cards to see if they had it. One by one each witch shook their head. At that, Briar pulled out the card from the pile of unowned places.

“Are you going to buy it?” Briar asked.

Thea made a show of slowly deliberating before she nodded. Thea gave Briar the money, and Briar handed over the card.

“My turn!” Fallon crowed gleefully. The dice were handed over, and Fallon rolled. Unlike Thea, she didn’t make a production out of it. She rolled a six and a four. Once again, the room fell silent as she moved her figurine-- hers was a hand with unsheathed iron nails-- and landed on----

“ _ Again?! _ ” Fallon screeched.

There was a collective groan as Fallon reluctantly reached for a Statement Card. No one really liked Statement Cards.

Fallon glowered at the card as she read it silently to herself. While she did that, Manon grabbed the bottle of alcohol and poured everyone another shot. Finally, Fallon looked up.

“Well?” Imogen asked. “Part of the requirement of the Statement Card is that you actually read the card out loud.”

Fallon scowled at her, her eyes narrowing with murderous intent. She cleared her throat. “Never have I ever killed a crochan.”

There was a slight pause as everyone processed the statement. And then in unison, every single witch downed a shot. That one hadn’t been so bad, Vesta mused.

The dice were passed to Sorrel, who rolled a six and a five. She landed on  _ Eyllwe  _ which she already owned. The dice were passed again to Asterin, who rolled a three and a two. She scowled when she landed on  _ Xandria  _ because it belonged to Imogen. 

“Five coins, right?” Asterin grumbled, reaching for her pile. 

“No, fifteen. I have two houses.” Asterin glowered as she slowly counted out the money before handing it over to Imogen. Then, without breaking eye contact, Asterin slowly turned her figurine \-- a hand with the middle finger sticking out--  so that it faced Imogen. Imogen only smirked.

The dice were passed, this time to Manon. She rolled the dice, and got a three and a five. She slowly moved her piece the eight spaces, and landed on the Statement Card square. Everyone groaned again.

Manon pulled the Statement Card and read it silently to herself, her lips quirking up ever so slightly. 

“Never have I ever killed another witch.” There was a collective silence before everyone downed a shot, and then another one for good measure. When they were done, they fell into a fit of laughter, the absurdity of the question along with the alcohol they had consumed lowering their inhibitions slightly.

Even Manon and the Shadows chuckled, though they were more reserved.

“Who,” Kaya gasped out, “has never killed another witch? Especially at this age.” She was once again lost to her laughter. The giggling fit continued for a little while before they eventually gained control of themselves.

They spent the rest of the day, and a good portion of the evening playing. Imogen had eventually won (this wasn’t unusual- it was usually Imogen or one of the Shadows, and occasionally Manon) and endured the ruckus that followed. Even after the game was finished, they stayed drinking and talking late into the night. They could all survive on little sleep, and the Matron had set the start time for the next day later than usual. As witches they also had a higher tolerance for alcohol, and they would be good as new, and hangover free, in the morning. When Vesta finally headed back to her room, she felt lighter and happier than she had in longer than she wanted to admit. She slid into bed with the knowledge that soon, the Thirteen of them would be an official coven, and the sparks of excitement were the last thing she felt before she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh!! We’re getting close to the end of the competition! As far as the competition I’m thinking one, maybe two, chapters for the final stage and then possibly like a celebration/official like ceremony for the coven??? Idk, I kinda feel like there should be some sort of ceremony to welcome a new coven, especially Manon’s, but we’ll see. This chapter was one of the hardest to write, because of the kind of banter and domestic stuff it involved. I’m not like super happy with the chapter, but I feel like I did an okay job. I hope you all enjoyed it, and of course comments and kudos are appreciated! Comments really fuel me and are really fun to read. In the upcoming chapters, I'm going to be asking for suggestions, and opinions from you guys so be prepared!


	16. Sorrel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the first part of the last stage of the competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhhhh! I'm so proud of myself. Two chapters in two days. It's a miracle. This is told from Sorrel's POV, which was kinda hard to write because she's pretty stoic in the books. I hope y'all enjoy it!

Sorrel woke early on the last day of the competition. She had always been somewhat of an early bird. She liked to be up early and prepare for the day before she had to do anything. This was the last day of the competition and Sorrel didn’t doubt it would be the hardest. She stopped by the training room and warmed up a little bit, going through basic moves and exercises that wouldn’t tire her out too much. When the clock struck a decent hour, she headed towards Manon’s study. When she arrived, there were already witches there. Vesta and the lovers were engaged in what sounded like a very serious conversation about whether or not french braids or dutch braids were better. Kaya was simply curled into her lover’s side, watching and occasionally tossing out a suggestion, playing devil’s advocate. Imogen and Ghislaine were sitting in companionable silence, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with their legs stretched out towards each other, as Ghislaine read her newest book, and Imogen sharpened her knives. The Shadows were probably doing scouting for Manon, trying to get any heads-up they could on today’s challenge.

Sorrel slid onto a couch, bracing her feet on the low slung table in front of her, content to simply sit and absorb the mix of calm and frenetic energy that was the Thirteen. One by one, the rest of the witches trickled in. Asterin joined Vesta and the lovers, arguing instead that a simple plait was more effective than a French or dutch braid. The rest of the witches arrayed themselves across the available furniture as they waited for Manon to arrive. At some point, the Shadows slipped in, joining Sorrel on the couch.

When Manon finally entered, there was an uncharacteristic silence in the room as everyone turned their attention to Manon. She slid into the only available armchair and nodded to the Shadows, a silent order for them to report. 

“Everyone is being very tight-lipped about what this challenge will include. We believe it will be a mixture of everything we have done so far, and will include flying as well as require you to shoot from your broom, etc. There are judges throughout, and they will keep track of everyone’s progress. If a witch doesn’t meet the criteria, for example they don’t shoot well enough, they will be marked, and if they are one of the first twelve witches to cross the finish line, they will not count. There is a possibility the challenge will extend overnight, although we don’t have specifics. That is all the information we could glean.” That was Edda, Briar her silent twin.

Manon rose to pace, more to have something to do with her body while she processed and assessed the information, Sorrel thought. “You must be prepared for anything. If you meet each other during the challenge, help each other. Watch each other’s backs. But your focus must be crossing the finish line.” Her eyes were piercing as she said, “You must all be the first twelve witches to cross the finish line.”

There was a quiet murmur throughout the room, an air of determination and comradery settling over the room. The Thirteen were different from other covens, and not just because they were the heir’s coven. They watched each other’s backs, and genuinely cared about the other witches’ well being. There was no worry that one day one of them would stab them in the back. Sorrel knew that the witches in this room would do everything they could to make sure that they were the ones to win this challenge. And damned if that wasn’t a powerful thing.

The quiet sense of peace was broken when Manon continued. “The challenge will cover lots of ground and many different terrains, so pack extra layers that can be easily discarded. Bring weapons, but think strategically. You’re going to have to move fast, and you don’t want to be weighed down by unnecessary weaponry. Spectators will be allowed to watch, although my grandmother and I will wait at the finish line. May the three-faced goddess be with you.”

The somber air slowly dissipated, and the rest of the time until the challenge was passed with the usual banter and sassy remarks. When it was time for the competition to start, Manon left them alone with the witch sent to bring them to the gathering site. They all carried their brooms, as the witch had told them they would need them. They arrived at the northern edge of the Keep where the remaining competitors were gathered. The northern entrance was one of two large gates that served as entrances for bigger supplies or when they had a large number of witches entering or exiting the Keep at one time.

The Matron stood at the front of the group, Manon nowhere to be found.

“This is the final stage of the competition that will decide my granddaughter’s coven. The challenge is as follows. You will be dropped off at a predetermined point in the mountains, and your goal is to be one of the first twelve witches to cross the finish line. This horn,” she held up an elaborately carved horn that was usually used to call witches to battle, “will be blown and will signal the start of the race. Each witch will have their own path through the mountains, but they will all converge into a series of valleys. Six or seven witches paths will end in each valley, where you will find your broom, and attempt to make it to the other side. You will have to hit targets spaced out over this area. There will be judges scattered throughout and if you don’t meet the requirements, you will be disqualified even if you cross the finish line in the first twelve. Once you cross the valley, there will be a dense forest. You can make your way through however you wish. Once through the forest, the land will level out into a grassy plain with a few small hills. Once across that, there will be a thick jungle. This is the halfway point. You must reach the jungle by nightfall or you are disqualified. You must find a place to bed down for the night, before setting off again in the morning. You must make your way through the jungle the next day. Your next obstacle will be a swamp. You  _ must  _ make your way under the canopy, you may not fly over it. Once you exit the forest part of the swamp, you must simply fly over the water until you reach the mouth of a steep ravine. You must fly through this ravine to reach the finish line. Witches will roll boulders and shoot arrows as well as toss other obstacles at you as you make your way toward the finish line. There will be a witch at the finish line to document who crosses it. However, you must run the last mile on foot. There will be a witch to mark the start of the mile. If you come across other witches during the race, killing is allowed. You will be flown to your starting point, and will be given a pack once you arrive.” Here the Matron paused, allowing the assembled witches to process all the information that had been dumped upon them. 

It sounded like they would be free to make their own way towards the finish line, although it didn’t sound like there were any markers, which meant that it was up to them to stay on course. The Matron hadn’t mentioned anything about alliances, but Sorrel knew the Thirteen would try to find each other nonetheless. When it appeared everyone had digested the information, the Matron continued. 

“Hand over your brooms so they can be placed on the course.” There was a collective, tense silence. Each witch’s broom was carved by them before their first mission. It was important and deeply personal and no witch wanted to hand over their broom to an unknown witch, especially when they wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on it. Sorrel’s own broom had been carved when she was eleven, and the slight imperfections and blemishes were what made it hers. Nonetheless, the brooms were handed over with minimal violence. Once that was accomplished, everyone was assigned a witch to carry them to their assigned spot. Sorrel was assigned a tall witch who held herself with a regal grace. Sorrel slid into the broom behind the witch, who hadn’t given her name. They soared out into the crisp air, and Sorrel was glad for the coat she wore, although it was relatively light so as not to hinder her movements.

Sorrel spent the flight going over the information she had been given and trying to formulate a plan. The best time to try and rendezvous with other members of the Thirteen was probably at the valley, or maybe at the plains. They would have the best sightlines and easiest way to reach each other. Sorrel was broken out of her thoughts as they began to descend. They landed in a secluded mountain pass, packed with snow and ice. Sorrel eyed the walls of the pass warily. These would be prime avalanche conditions. She would have to keep a sharp ear out for any sign of falling snow or rocks, and move quickly.

“Here,” her guide said, holding out three items. One was a bow and quiver of arrows, the second a small pack that most likely contained a minimal amount of food, and the third was a small waterskin. “There are five targets for the archery test, use your arrows wisely.” There were ten arrows in the quiver. She would have five shots with her arrows. It was useful information __ other witches wouldn’t want to waste their arrows on human targets until they had passed the archery test. Sorrel slung the bow and arrows over her shoulder. She stuffed the waterskin into the pack, confirming that inside lay a food supply that might last two days if stretched very thin, before strapping that onto her back as well.

The witch dipped her head, and with a quiet “May the three-faced goddess be with you,” she was gone.

Sorrel turned back toward the pass, silently noting her path and any obstacles she might encounter. About thirty yards ahead the path curved out of view. She estimated that the mountains stretched maybe two miles ahead of her as the crow flies, which meant she would have to cover at least two miles in the pass, probably more like five or six. As she waited for the horn, Sorrel silently checked to make sure that her two hunting daggers and short sword were strapped securely to her waist. She also flicked down the clear goggles Manon had had made for the Thirteen to help protect their eyes against snow, and other hindrances to their vision. 

The horn sounded, its deep note ringing off the mountain walls and bouncing back. Sorrel took off, keeping her steps light and settled into a pace she could maintain for a while without tiring. As she moved around the bend, the pass opened up a little bit, with less steep sides and thinner, more delicate sheets of ice. She settled in for a long run, clearing her mind and focusing on each step. She kept a sharp ear out for the sound of breaking ice or any vibrations that could indicate an avalanche, but heard nothing. Eventually, she turned the final bend and saw the valley about half a mile away. She could vaguely see a small black shape at the end of her pass, and figured it was probably her broom. The wind buffeted her as Sorrel made her way toward her broom. She inspected it and once she was satisfied, she mounted it. The valley was about two miles across and the targets were spaced out along the first mile. The sides of the valley were steep and blocked the view of the neighboring valleys. She appeared to be the first witch to make it into her valley, and didn’t dawdle.

As Sorrel soared into the air, she pulled her bow from her back and nocked an arrow. She focused on her breathing and when she was close enough to the first target let the arrow fly. She didn’t bother watching to see where it hit. Sorrel knew the arrow would strike home. She used precisely five arrows, and knew she had aced the archery test. She replaced her bow and remaining arrows on her back, and pushed her broom higher into the sky, trying to get a view of the neighboring valleys. She was vaguely aware of other witches entering into the valley behind her, but she paid them no mind.

When she cleared the top of the valley, she leveled out and let her eyes roam across the landscape. There appeared to be seven valleys stretched out side by side. She scanned for any other members of the Thirteen. As her eyes roamed, she caught a glint of red.  _ Vesta.  _ Vesta had just cleared the archery portion when she seemed to spot Sorrel. Vesta aimed her broom towards her, and leveled out beside her. Vesta made the hand signal for  _ general question _ , and Sorrel knew Vesta was asking if she had spotted any of the other Thirteen. Sorrel made the hand signal for  _ no  _ and  _ continue on _ . They didn’t have time to search for anyone else. They could take care of themselves. Vesta nodded, and they flew side by side towards the forest. 

They landed on the outskirts and rigged their brooms to their bodies so they wouldn’t have to worry about them. The forest was made up of tall trees that blocked out the sunlight. There were many thorn bushes and other such shrubbery covering the ground in between trees. Slowly, the two witches crept into the forest. They stayed close, and kept their ears open for any sign of danger. As they moved through the forest, Sorrel was vaguely aware of the sun slowly creeping across the sky, but all of her energy was focused on the silent forest around them. Finally, around what Sorrel guessed to be midday, she stopped Vesta.

“Let’s take a break here. Get some water and a snack. We need to keep up our strength,” she said quietly to keep her voice from carrying. Vesta nodded, and the both settled down in the shadow of a large oak. Sorrel munched on some pieces of jerky and took liberal sips of water, allowing herself to rest for a minute. It was tiring to be on watch every single minute, especially when nothing happened. Anticipation was much worse than actual battle. They were just packing up their supplies when there was a slight rustle in the underbrush to their left. Sorrel whipped around, bow pointed toward the sound as Vesta drew one of her knives. 

Slowly a witch materialized from the shadows.

“Imogen,” Sorrel said, lowering her bow. Imogen looked tired and sweaty, but unharmed. Imogen nodded at them as Vesta sheathed her knife. Through silent agreement, the three witches settled to give Imogen a bit of time to rest and eat. But soon, they packed up and continued on their way. They trekked tirelessly through the forest, eyes sweeping and on constant alert. Occasionally, they heard a rustle in the trees or the slight sound of a voice, but they encountered no witches. It was late afternoon when the witches reached the edge of the forest, and saw the rolling, grassy hills stretched out before them.

“Let’s fly across, low to the ground, and try to use the hills for cover as much as possible,” Imogen said. The three witches mounted their brooms, but had barely made it twenty feet when an arrow flew past Sorrel’s head. Sorrel jerked her broom to avoid, cursing silently.

“Ambush!” she roared. “Head for the jungle!” They were too exposed out here, with not enough cover. And the witches attacking them knew it. They had probably seen the three of them and waited until they left the cover of the forest to attack.

Sorrel dipped her broom low, weaving between the hills to avoid the arrows. As she turned a bend, Sorrel saw an arrow flying for her and snatched it out of the air. She tossed it into her quiver for later use, and once again focused on the jungle in the distance. Sorrel couldn't see the others, but she trusted them. The last half mile of grassland was completely open with no cover. She watched Vesta shoot out of the hills, leaning low over her broom. She expertly dodged the arrows fired at her, heading straight for the forest. Sorrel emerged from the hills seconds later and Imogen appeared in her peripheral vision.  _ Come on, come on. Almost there.  _ Vesta had just reached the tree line when Sorrel heard Imogen let out a roar of pain. Sorrel forced herself to ignore it and focused on the tree line. She heard the snap of a bow as Vesta fired from the safety of the trees, and a thud as a body hit the ground. When she reached the tree line, Sorrel whipped around to assess the situation. Two witches remained, flying just over top of the hills so they could fire at Imogen, who Sorrel could now see was bleeding from her left shoulder. Sorrel let an arrow fly as Vesta took out a second witch. Sorrel’s arrow found home, and the body of the third witch joined the other two on the ground.

Imogen reached the tree line and the three witches dismounted before moving farther into the jungle, which offered some protection. They found a secluded spot, and Imogen sat down heavily. The sun was setting, and it cast shadows in between the trees.

“Let me see,” Vesta said gently. 

Imogen held out her arm, and Vesta cleaned it with a bit of water before wrapping a strip of cloth around it to staunch the bleeding.

“That should do for now. Get some food and water, and then sleep. Sorrel and I will keep watch.”

Imogen nodded and quickly made herself a small meal from the supplies before strapping herself into a tree to sleep. It kept them out of reach of animals and helped hide them from other witches. 

“I’ll take first watch,” Sorrel murmured. Vesta nodded before strapping herself up beside Imogen. Sorrel spent her watch listening for unusual noises and tracking what she could see of the night sky through the thick jungle canopy. Sorrel woke Vesta for her watch, and her last thought before sleep took her was that she hoped the others were okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE READ So, in the books, there weren't many big events mentioned in the Thirteen's past. The only one that's coming to mind for me is Asterin's lover, and her child. So, after the competition, that's what I'm going to write. But after that I don't really have a plan. So, if there's anything y'all want to see, or that you think should happen, PLEASE, PLEASE leave a comment. They help feed my creativity.


	17. Lin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of the fourth stage, and the last actual challenge/competition chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like forever since I last updated, but I'm (pretty) sure it's only been like maybe a little over a week. These past few days have been crazy- I had another three day tournament this weekend, so very little sleep, but I survived. This chapter practically wrote itself, I simply had to find the time to sit down and let the words flow. I hope y'all are doing well and staying safe. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always comments and kudos are very much appreciated!

Lin slept fitfully that night. She was on edge and too twitchy to get a good night’s rest. From the noises she heard from Ghislaine, she wasn’t having much luck either. Lin finally fell into a fitful doze, only to be awoken soon after by Kaya for her watch. She couldn't deny she was slightly glad. As she settled in for her watch, Lin considered the events of the previous day. She was relatively happy with their progress so far. Lin and Ghislaine had been funneled into the same valley, and after both aced their archery tests they had continued on toward the forest. They had made their way through the forest with relatively little trouble, although they had killed two witches along the way. They had found Kaya in the expanse of grassy hills before the jungle. They had exited the forest into the field at relatively the same time, and had rendezvoused to continue their journey together. They had passed through the jungle without encountering anyone, and had chosen a spot to bed down as the sun was setting. Lin stretched her legs out, and settled against the tree to wait out her watch.

Lin let the two sleep until the sun stained the sky in brilliant hues. Once she woke Kaya and Ghislaine, they ate a light breakfast and drank some water, before taking stock of their supplies. Kaya only had two arrows left, along with a dagger. Ghislaine had three arrows, although she had dipped the tips in poison she had made the day before. Lin had all five arrows along with a dagger and a short sword, which she gave to Kaya. Ghislain’s arrows would work well enough in close quarters, especially with the poison.

They strapped their packs and their brooms to their bodies before setting out through the jungle. It was humid, and bugs buzzed through the air, irritating them. They stopped every hour or so to take small sips of water. It wasn’t long before the witches shed all their outer layers, and sweated through their leathers. It took them the majority of the morning to make their way through the jungle. But a little before midday, they reached the end of the jungle,

Stretching out before them was a soupy mess of brackish water and trees. Lin could barely make out the sunlight glinting off water in the distance-- the uncovered portion of the swamp before the ravine. 

Lin’s hair was stuck to her neck with sweat and her plait was an uncomfortable, wet weight against her back.

“We need to stay midway between the trees and the canopy-- far enough up to avoid any animals in the water but not so high that we’re encumbered by low hanging branches.”

The other two witches nodded and wearily mounted their brooms.

However, it wasn’t long before disaster struck. There was a sickening  _ thud  _ and Lin barely had time to process that someone had cut one of the trees standing in the swamp before the branches crashed into her, throwing her into the water.

Lin hit the water hard, the tree’s foliage trapping her underwater. She could barely see anything in the brackish water, but she thrashed, trying to free herself from the tree’s limbs. It took longer than it should have, but eventually Lin dragged herself free of the tree. She was disoriented, her head pounding, and she distantly thought that a tree branch must have smacked her in the head. It took all her concentration and strength to fight her way towards what she hoped was the surface. It seemed like years before Lin finally broke the surface of the water, heaving in air and coughing.

Lin dragged her hair out of her eyes and assessed the situation. There was no sign of the witch who had cut the tree, and Lin struck out towards a small bank. She hauled herself up the small, muddy slope, and collapsed onto the ground. She coughed, vomiting water as she pulled herself farther up the embankment. She did a mental scan of her body, taking stock of her injuries. Her head was pounding, but it didn’t seem to be anything major. Her body ached, and she had a few bruises peppered across her body, but no major injuries. She had managed to hold onto her broom, but her pack was gone along with her bow, although she still had all five arrows in her quiver. Her dagger had also stayed attached to her thigh.

She scanned the swamp, but couldn't see Kaya or Ghislaine. She didn’t want to give away their position, but she needed to find them.

“Kaya! Ghislaine!” she called, hauling herself to her feet. Her words rang through the silence for a moment before she got a response.

“Over here!” Kaya called. Lin mounted her broom and followed Kaya’s voice to another embankment not far away. She was kneeling beside Ghislaine, who was inspecting her right foot.

“It’s at least sprained, if not broken,” Kaya said, sounding worried.

“Are you all right?” Lin directed her question towards Kaya as she knelt and inspected Ghislaine’s foot. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just some minor bumps and bruises.” Ghislaine’s ankle was most definitely broken. She grimaced. This was bad. Ghislaine could still fly, although it would be painful, but there was the mile at the end she had to run.

“You two need to get across the finish line. I’ll find my way on my own.” Ghislaine said, her eyes glinting in the low light.

“No,” Kaya said firmly. “Besides, how would you fly? You lost your broom.” It was only then that Lin noticed that Ghislaine’s broom was indeed gone.

“Ghislaine’s right,” Lin said, holding up a hand to stop Kaya’s protest. “There’s no use in both of us being held back. You’re the better flyer, and you’re at least as fast as I am, if not a faster runner. Get to the finish line, see what you can do to help. Ghislaine will fly with me.”

“What about the mile she has to run?” Kaya asked. 

“We’ll deal with that as we get there. One step at a time.”

“Okay,” Kaya said slowly. “I’ll fly ahead, and see what I can do. Be careful, and may the three-faced goddess be with you.” Kaya mounted her broom and took off through the trees.

“You ready?” Lin asked. Ghislaine nodded, her face pale. Slowly, Lin dragged Ghislaine to her feet, and helped her mount the broom. Lin climbed on in front of her, and felt Ghislaine grab her waist. She soared into the air slowly, adjusting to having another person riding with her, but she eventually got the hang of it. They flew until midday, when they took a short break to eat, and let Ghislaine rest. While Ghislaine ate, Lin worked to come up with a brace for her ankle. They ended up bracing each side of her ankle with a small piece of wood and wrapped strips of leather around it to keep it in place. It was most definitely not perfect, but hopefully it would help prevent her from injuring it further. They took to the skies again, and soon they cleared the trees over the swamp. About a mile of uncovered swamp stretched out before them before sheer rock walls jutted up from the water. Lin could just barely see a crack between the two slabs of stone that must be the ravine. She saw three distant shadows that must be other witches, but she was much too far away to identify them.

Lin pushed her broom hard, leaning forward to make herself as aerodynamic as possible. Behind her, Ghislaine did the same. As they drew closer to the break in the rock, Lin could see that it slowly widened and the bottom was filled with water from the swamp.  _ So no walking through there then.  _

Both of them were silent as they entered the ravine. This was where other witches would try to stop them. It was eerily quiet as they flew through the ravine, until a scream shattered through the air. It echoed off the walls, nearly drowning out the splash of water. Lin tightened her hands around her broom as the scream faded and the air was once again silent. This was a dangerous silence though. The silence of a predator stalking prey, the calm before the storm. They were turning a bend in the ravine when Ghislaine grabbed her shoulder. “Look out!” Lin snapped her head up to see a large boulder heading her way. She jerked her broom out of the way as another boulder rolled over the side of the ravine. More boulders followed as the ravine was suddenly alive with noise.

“Hold on,” Lin growled at Ghislaine as she put all her energy into avoiding the falling rocks. The world around her melted away. Eventually the cascade of boulders stopped, but Lin didn’t relax until the last echo of rocks hitting the water had faded. But she shouldn’t have let her guard down so soon, because just then an arrow whistled past her head.  _ Fuck.  _ Once again, they played a game of Dodge the Deadly Things Trying to Kill You. But eventually the arrows stopped as the floor of the ravine sloped up out of the water before leveling out.

“We’re nearing the last mile, I think,” Lin called back to Ghislaine. It was a silent order to prepare herself. She felt Ghislaine nod against her back, and there was silence once again as they flew. They turned a bend and saw a witch wearing a black cloak and holding a red flag. 

“The start of the mile you have to run is marked up ahead with a red flag like this one.” She held up her flag. “You must dismount and run the last mile. The finish line is marked with white and black checkered flags. There will probably be an audience there as well as the Matron and her heir.”

Lin nodded her thanks as she flew past. Not even a minute later, Lin spotted the red flag. She dropped to the ground, and both witches dismounted. Lin strapped her broom to her back, and turned to Ghislaine.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. You’ll put your arm over my shoulders, and lean on me as we run. Imagine we’re doing a three-legged race, except my foot is taking all the weight. We’ll start out slow, but we need to move fast. Don’t focus on anything else except each step you take. Block out everything else, and focus on your breathing. Okay?”

Ghislaine nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” Ghislaine slung her arm across my shoulders, and I took some of her weight. It took some maneuvering to figure out the best position, but eventually they started off. It was slow going at first. Painfully slow. Even when they got the hang of it, they still moved much slower than Lin would have liked. Lin put all her focus into supporting Ghislaine’s weight, and keeping them both in sync. If one stumbled, so did the other, and it threw off their rhythm. Lin was aware of other witches passing them, but she forced herself to ignore them. None of them bothered Lin and Ghislaine, obviously thinking they were out of the race. Ghislaine, too, ignored them. Finally, Lin began to hear the telltale cheers and shouts that signaled the finish line was near. The noise got progressively louder as they neared the last bend in the ravine. But when they turned the corner, Lin staggered and very nearly sent them both crashing to the ground. Beside her Ghislaine looked up from where she had been focusing all her attention on each step, and she too froze.

Perhaps two hundred yards ahead, Lin could see the white and black checkered flags of the finish line. The bodies of dead witches were scattered across the ground leading to the finish line, and some had even been moved or stacked against the sides of the ravine so they didn’t block the way. But that wasn’t what had caught her attention. No, that was secondary to the emotion tightening her chest. Because arrayed in front and behind the finish line were The Thirteen, holding the line. Making sure that no one crossed the finish line before Lin and Ghislaine. Kaya and Thea stood side by side, holding daggers covered in blood. Beside them was Imogen, bow drawn and ready to fire. Faline and Fallon stood slightly behind them and both had their iron nails and teeth out. The rest of The Thirteen stood beyond the finish line-- presumably the witches who had crossed the finish line before hearing that Ghislaine was injured.

When Kaya realized it was them, she dashed forward, and together they helped drag Ghislaine across the finish line, the rest of The Thirteen following. Lin barely felt her knees buckle as she collapsed, exhaustion finally catching up with her. She was vaguely aware of the shouting and the cheering as The Thirteen celebrated. Because they had made it. She didn’t notice when Manon joined them, smiling for once. She didn’t notice when the Matron declared them the victors, sounding unhappy. No, all she could hear was the phrase playing on repeat in her head.  _ We made it; we won. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm very proud of myself. I really like this chapter, and feel pretty confident in it. I hope y'all enjoyed it. 
> 
> **PLEASE READ** So, for those of you that have thus far been quiet, it's your time to shine! So, I am going to write one more celebration/coven initiation chapter and then that's the end of this portion of the story. Yay! So, the next thing I'm going to be working on is Asterin's liaison with the unnamed human man. It will start with her meeting him to her punishment from the Matron. If I feel like it I might even write a chapter that shows Asterin going back to visit that cabin over the years. Okay, so now the important part. After that, I really don't have anything else planned. There weren't really any other major events mentioned in the Thirteen's history. So, if there is anything that you all would like to see, or that you think should have happened PLEASE, PLEASE speak up. I can't promise I will write it, but I will take it under serious consideration. Anyway, that is all I have for you today, please comment, and happy (slightly late) Valentine's Day!


	18. Ghislaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Official celebration/private Thirteen celebration. Some more drunk Thirteen, although no board games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I think this is going to be the last competition/all Thirteen chapter? I think the next few chapters are going to focus on one or two characters stories. E.g. Asterin and her hunter or something like that. I hope y'all enjoy!

Ghislaine absolutely  _ hated  _ official ceremonies, and everything they entailed. Since they had won the competition, The Thirteen was officially being sworn in as Manon’s coven. The tradition stretched back to the downfall of the Witch Kingdom, and even before it although it had been tweaked a little. The twelve of them, along with Manon, would swear their loyalty to the Matron and their coven today. It was also when the coven’s Second and Third would be announced, as well as their name. Most coven leaders told the witches who would be granted the positions of Second and Third beforehand, but it was ultimately up to the coven leader. The witches would all swear an oath to the Blackbeaks together, and then each witch would swear an oath to their coven leader individually. All the oaths were the same, except for the Second, Third, and coven leader’s oath. The Second and Third swore everything the rest of the witches did, but they also swore to uphold certain extra responsibilities they would be tasked with as Second and Third. The coven leader’s oath was entirely different, and Manon’s even more so because she was the heir.

Each coven could choose what they wanted to wear, although they all coordinated so they provided a united front. Today, The Thirteen would wear simple black pants, a black tunic with silver threading, and black shoes. The clothes would be a bit fancier and more finely made than their everyday outfits. Each witch would also wear a red cloak. Before, Manon was the only witch allowed to wear red as it symbolized her position as heir. But as Manon’s coven, that privilege now extended to them. Therefore, each of The Thirteen had kept a red cloak from their first hunt. For most of them, the cloak came from the first Crochan they killed. They would all wear their hair back in a simple plait, and they would all carry their brooms. All of the Blackbeak witches would be there today, and would join them in celebrating once the formalities were done.

Ghislaine had woken at the crack of dawn, so she had time as the ceremony didn’t start until about midday. She inspected herself in the mirror, looking for flaws. Ghislaine sighed. She really wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing. Ghislaine wasn’t a showy witch __ she was reserved and quiet, she hated crowds, she very much disliked being the center of attention, and she didn’t have that inherent arrogance that most of The Thirteen displayed. But she was one of Manon’s coven, and so she would be up there with everyone else today. 

Ghislaine had just sat down, resigned to spending the next hour plaiting and re-plaiting her hair, when there was a knock at the door. 

“Yes?” Ghislaine asked a bit warily. 

The door cracked open just enough for Thea to stick her head through. Thea’s hair was braided back, and she was probably already dressed. Suddenly, Kaya’s head appeared on top of Thea’s. Kaya’s hair was also braided back, and Ghislaine noticed both witches had shadowed their eyes ever so slightly with kohl. Kaya must be standing on her tiptoes so she could rest her chin on top of Thea’s head. The result was rather comical. It looked like Ghislaine had two bodiless heads stacked on top of one another hanging in her doorway.

Ghislaine raised an eyebrow. “Was there something you needed?”

Thea grinned. “No! We just knew you’d probably spend the rest of the time before the ceremony redoing your hair and just generally worrying over your appearance.”

“So, we thought we’d come give you a hand, and then drag you down to be with the rest of us. Hopefully it’ll keep your mind off things,” Kaya finished.

Ghislaine pursed her lips contemplatively __ as though she’d ever actually say no. “Fine,” Ghislaine said with a little grin. The two witches slipped inside and closed the door with a soft  _ click. _

With both of them it didn’t take long to get Ghislaine ready. Kaya plaited her hair while Thea messed with her face. Thea put a liberal layer of powder over Ghislaine’s whole face, added a small amount of a different powder to her cheeks, smeared something on her lips, and added kohl around her eyes to match Thea and Kaya. There wasn’t much else to do __ Ghislaine was already dressed.

“Let’s head down to see the others,” Kaya said. 

Ghislaine followed the lovers through the corridors leading to Manon’s study. There was an unusual bustle about the Keep today. There were servants preparing things for the celebration, witches preparing for the ceremony, and even some last minute arrivals. They garnered some attention, the red cloaks signifying that they were members of Manon’s coven, but no one bothered them. When they reached the wing where Manon’s study was located, there was a noticeably quieter atmosphere. This wing was private __ mostly used for the Matron and heir as well as the occasional high-ranking Blackbeak witch. 

The three of them were the last to arrive, everyone else already arrayed across the furniture, murmuring quietly to each other. The witches took note of their arrival, but the conversations didn’t pause. Ghislaine noticed the other witches had the same kohl outline around their eyes, even Manon, who was sitting in an armchair near the Shadows. 

When Manon saw they had arrived, she rose from her seat. The room fell instantly quiet as everyone looked toward Manon.

“We made it. Today, we become an official coven. As I’m sure you’re probably aware, I have named Asterin my Second, and Sorrel my Third. Vesta will be my fourth, and Faline my fifth. Then it will go: Fallon, Edda, Briar, Thea, Kaya, Lin, Ghislaine, and Imogen. I believe you all also know what our coven will be called. We will be The Thirteen. I trust everyone knows their oaths.” At this there is a quiet murmur of assent, and Asterin and Sorrel nod at Manon to show they know their modified ones. “The ceremony will start in an hour, and will last for at least half an hour. After, there will be a celebration with food and drink. We may have our own private celebration. Until then you are free to do as you wish.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone absorbed this. Ghislaine could read between the lines of what Manon wasn’t saying. She was proud of them, and she was happy that they had won.

No one left the study after Manon’s announcement. The rest of the hour passed in muted conversation and light banter. When it was time, the witches filed out the door and towards the Great Hall.

When they arrived, they wound their way around the edge of the crowd to get to the raised podium where the Matron stood. They gathered near the stairs to the podium as they waited for the rest of the witches to assemble and the Matron to start the ceremony.

When it seemed everyone was assembled, the Matron stepped forward. When she spoke her voice carried to the farthest corners of the room.

“We are gathered today to welcome a new coven.” Silence greeted this statement. Unlike human or Fae gatherings, witches were disciplined and didn’t interrupt the speaker with applause. Therefore, the witches would hold their silence until the end of the ceremony. “Not just any coven, but my granddaughter’s coven. Your heir.” The Matron turned to them, and inclined her head, indicating they should ascend the stairs. The Thirteen ascended the steps in rank, so Ghislaine was towards the very back. They settled onto the stage behind the Matron, hands clasped, shoulders back, the picture of discipline. 

“First, you will take your oath to the Blackbeak’s.”

Each witch unsheathed their iron nails, and sliced a line across their left palm. As the blood dripped from their closed fists, joining the blood of their predecessors on the stone floor, they began their oath.

“I swear to uphold the Blackbeak code to the fullest extent of my abilities. I swear to obey my coven leader and the Matron. I swear to protect my coven mates with my life. I swear to adhere to the three main covenants of the Blackbeaks: obedience, discipline, and brutality. I swear this oath of my own free will.”

It was somewhat eerie, how in sync they were. Once they finished their oath, the Matron stepped forward again.

“Manon, you will now announce your Second and Third and they will swear their oath.”

Manon stepped forward, chin raised, shoulders back, radiating a calm grace.

“Asterin Blackbeak, I name you my Second. Sorrel Blackbeak, I name you my third. Asterin, step forward and swear your oath as my Second.”

Asterin stepped forward, before dropping to knees before Manon. Asterin pressed her still bleeding hand to the stone and began her oath.

“I swear to uphold all duties previously stated. I swear to uphold my duties as your Second. I swear to protect my coven leader with my life. I swear to offer my honest advice and counsel when asked. I swear to take on the honor of coven leader should the need arise. I swear to carry out all orders given to me without question. I swear this oath of my own free will.”

“I accept your oath. You may rise.”

Asterin rose gracefully before dipping into a swift, but low bow before stepping back.

“Sorrel, come forward and swear your oath as my Third.”

Sorrel stepped forward, and as Asterin had, dropped to her knees and pressed her bleeding palm to the stone. “I swear to uphold all duties previously stated. I swear to my duties as your Third. I swear to keep the peace, both between my coven leader and her Second, and to keep the peace between coven mates. I swear to delegate tasks to the coven when asked, and take charge when my coven leader and her Second are otherwise engaged. I swear to protect my coven leader and her Second with my life. I swear to carry out all orders given to me without question. I swear this oath of my own free will.”

“I accept your oath. You may rise.” Sorrel rose and bowed to Manon before joining them once again.

“Our coven will be named The Thirteen.”

The Matron once again stepped forward. “We may now celebrate the christening of our newest coven: The Thirteen.”

Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, and Ghislaine smiled inwardly to herself. It had been a hard and long journey, but they had made it. All of them. Together.

**[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []**

The Thirteen mingled for about an hour before Manon deemed they had spent enough time socializing. One by one, they slipped away through side doors or service entrances. Ghislaine happily collapsed onto one of the couches in Manon’s study, drained from the effort of dealing with so many witches all at once. It was rather unnerving to see witches being so cordial, even if it was forced. It was actually a relief to see the occasional brawl that broke out among the witches. 

Ghislaine looked up as Asterin entered the room and fell face-first onto one of the couches, dragging a decorative pillow over the back of her head.

“You doing alright, Asterin?” Lin asked dryly. Asterin’s only response was a rude gesture. Asterin stayed like that as more witches trickled in, until Thea and Kaya arrived, grinning like devils and each carrying a copious amount of ridiculously strong alcohol. There was a collective cheer from the gathered witches, including Manon, as the bottles were passed around. There was more than enough for each witch to get two bottles to themselves. 

Sorrel, who had already downed an entire bottle and was slightly drunk, raised her new bottle and said, “To no more social interaction.”

The sentence was slightly awkward, the grammar not quite right. Sorrel had only downed one bottle of alcohol, which usually wouldn’t be enough to make a witch even tipsy, but it had been strong and aided by the alcohol Sorrel had undoubtedly consumed after the ceremony in an effort to make it through the celebration without murdering anyone. Everyone raised their bottles before taking large gulps.

“What’s the point of all this ‘ceremony’ anyway?” Lin grumbled. “Yevva gave me a You Must Uphold The Blackbeak Honor speech.” She rose, and pasted a serious look on her face. “Lin,” she said, imitating Yevva’s voice. “You are officially a witch now, and many young people will be watching you. You must uphold the Blackbeak traditions. Now, I understand how hard it must be, and how much pressure you must be under to put up a strong front, especially being a member of the heir’s coven. So I just wanted to let you know that you may always come to me for advice. It’s such an honor to help shape you young witches.” Lin rolled her eyes as she fell back onto her couch. “As  _ if. _ ”

There was a moment of silence before the room erupted in giggles __ actual  _ giggles. Maybe we’re more drunk than I realized.  _

“She. . . actually. . . said,” Fallon managed to gasp out in between fits of laughter before giving up on speaking altogether.

The night passed in a blur of drinking and banter. They occasionally tried to play games, but by that point they were so drunk that it wasn’t long until the game either devolved into complete chaos or the witches began laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe.

Ghislaine was completely drunk by hour two, but throughout the night there were a few things that stood out.

When Sorrel decided she could fly without her broom and had leapt off the back of a couch, and promptly landed spread-eagled on her face on the floor.

When they attempted to play Drink or Die. The game had been rather short lived because no one could remember who’s turn it was or which piece was theirs.

When Manon sent Asterin down to get some water for The Thirteen so they would be less hungover tomorrow. Asterin had returned empty-handed, and became very confused when Manon asked where the water was. Manon had then sent Sorrel down, but she had only made it to the stairs before she wandered back into the study. This continued for a while until they gave up on the water.

When Edda decided that to be stealthier, she would shuffle across the floor without lifting her feet so that no one would hear her footsteps. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad, except Edda was so drunk she kept running into things and falling over.

When, in a moment of rare calm and organization, they had all sat in a circle and braided each other’s hair. There had been complete silence as they worked, and they had managed to actually complete their task. Although the moment everyone was done braiding, the level of intelligence they had displayed had been lost and they once again devolved into chaos. 

When Thea and Kaya had walked around for an hour with their backs pressed together and their elbows interlocked. It had been especially funny watching them try and fail to stand for over twenty minutes.

When Asterin did a cartwheel.

When they played a game of truth or dare, which had been the longest lasting game. Sorrel had chugged an entire half gallon of ice water. Faline had played the air guitar on the couch for an entire five minutes, even going so far as to hop on the couch and shake her head and body along to the song. Briar, who was  _ very  _ drunk, had joined in by singing a completely bastardized version of  _ Goddess Save the Witch Kingdom,  _ which she had renamed  _ Goddess Save Our Drunk Asses.  _ Afterwards Thea, who had been sitting on Kaya’s lap, laughed so hard she fell off and dragged Kaya onto the floor with her. Lin had done an entire ten minute long improvised monologue. And Manon, when asked what her greatest fear was, had said trying to put them all to bed when they were this drunk and rowdy. This had been so completely hilarious that the witches hadn’t even cared that she had lied.

But eventually exhaustion had set in and the witches began passing out on various surfaces. Thea and Kaya passed out on top of the table in the center of the room, limbs tangled together. Briar lay sprawled over the back of the couch, limbs hanging off the sides like the legs of a spider. The rest of them either passed out on the floor or sprawled across pieces of furniture. Ghislaine ended up hanging haphazardly over the arm of a couch, though she had no memory of how she got there. Ghislaine sighed in contentment as she drifted off to sleep, surrounded by her Thirteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! So, I have a question for y'all. So, I have a Thea/Kaya meeting chapter that is pretty much written. But there isn't much relationship development, and I think I definitely want to add to it, but I had a burst of inspiration for Asterin and her hunter. So, there are two options. 1. I can post the Thea/Kaya chapter now, and you guys can just wait until I find time to come back around and add to it, or 2. I can not post the Thea/Kaya chapter and once I'm finished with Asterin and her hunter, I'll post the Thea/Kaya chapter and add to it.


	19. Thea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my interpretation of how Thea and Kaya met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!! So, I decided to post the Thea/Kaya chapter now. There isn't much like relationship development, so I'm going to add another chapter (hopefully) later. When I do add the chapter, I'll rearrange the chapter order so they're next to each other. So, just a heads up on that.

Thea was eight years old when she saw her for the first time. Thea and her mother were at Blackbeak Keep on official business __ her mother was meeting with the Matron. For what, Thea didn’t know. Her mother didn’t tell Thea what they talked about. Thea had been transfixed from the moment she saw the other witch. Thea didn’t know if she was attracted to boys as she’d never met one, but Thea had known, even then, that she was attracted to girls. But this was the first time that Thea had ever been attracted to a specific girl. And she was most definitely attracted to this girl. Thea was transfixed the moment she saw her. The girl was talking animatedly with another witch __  a blonde. Thea’s mind hyperfocused on her __ the way her lips looked, how her blue eyes danced with a wicked glint, the way her auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders and  _ glowed  _ in the sun. 

Thea only realized she was staring when the blonde witch caught her. Thea immediately jerked her head away to stare at her hands, which were tightly intertwined in her lap. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage as she prayed the two witches wouldn’t say anything. Apparently, her prayers went ignored because she heard footsteps on the stone floor, heading this way. Thea didn’t look up as the footsteps drew closer, or as she felt a presence appear beside her on the stone bench.

“Hey,” a voice said. Thea ignored the voice. “It’s alright,” the voice said. “I don’t mind. In fact,” the voice came closer. “I’m of the same. . . persuasion.”

Thea blinked at that, her head jerking up __ and. . . and Thea’s heart nearly stopped. The witch sitting beside her was smiling at her, auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders and blue eyes sparking with a wicked delight. And she was smiling. At Thea. Thea opened her mouth to respond __ ask a question, her name, anything.

“Thea!” her mother’s voice cracked through the air. Thea’s head whipped around. Her mother was striding across the room towards her.

“I __ I have to go. I’ll umm, I’ll,” Thea nearly tripped over her own feet as she scrambled away. “Umm goodbye.” Thea hurried away trying, trying to ignore the amusement shining in the other witch’s eyes.

“Who was that?” her mother demanded.

“No one,” Thea murmured. 

Her mother frowned at her, but gestured for Thea to follow her. Thea followed her mother outside in a haze. She didn’t remember the ride home, walking inside, or getting ready for bed. Her only thought before sleep claimed her was that she didn’t even know her name.

**[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []**

Thea was twelve the next time she saw Kaya. That was her name. Kaya. It was one of the many things Thea had learned about Kaya since the first time she saw her when she was eight. Thea had learned that Kaya was also eight the first time they met. She learned that Kaya had lived at the Keep since she was six years old, and that she was friends with Manon, the heir. The witch she had been talking to that day had been Asterin, Manon’s unofficial Second. Thea was at the Keep to deliver something from her mother. Her mother had upgraded from running all these errands herself to making Thea do them for her. The message was sealed in a thick envelope that Thea didn’t dare open. This time, Thea had to wait for a response from the Matron. She had already been here two days, and she was beginning to get restless. 

Thea was simply wandering the halls of the Keep when she saw her. She was alone this time, and more reserved than the first time Thea had seen her. But it wasn’t in a bad way. She seemed more collected, and yet she still had that wicked spark in her eyes. Her auburn hair was braided down her back, and she was wearing the traditional witch leathers. Kaya didn’t notice her at first, lost in her own thoughts. Thea had to force herself to keep moving.  _ It’s been four years, she probably doesn’t even remember you. She’s smart and friends with the heir so _ _ __ _

Thea nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the voice.  _ The voice. _ The voice of the witch who, despite Thea desperately trying not to, had dominated her thoughts since their first meeting in the Keep at eight years old.

“Thea.” The sound of her name jerked her out of her thoughts, and she looked up. The other witch was looking at her, eyes bright with a slightly wicked amusement. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who had done some research.

“Yes?” Thea forced herself to ask calmly. Kaya smirked.

“I’ve seen you here before. We met when we were eight, right?” Thea desperately tried to ignore the way her heart did a happy dance in her chest because  _ she remembered her! _

“Yes.” Thea, the witty conversationalist. Kaya’s smirk grew.

“Hey,” Kaya said, cocking her head. “I have a bit of time. Do you want a tour of the Keep?” 

Thea bit her lip.  _ This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, this is a BAD IDEA _ _ __ _

“I’d love a tour.” Kaya smiled and gestured down the corridor.

The two witches spent the rest of the morning wandering the halls of the Keep. Kaya, she discovered, was smart, charming, confident, and flirtatious. Kaya easily pulled Thea into conversation, flirting with her every so often. Thea finally managed to find her brain, and they established a kind of repertoire Thea rarely found anymore. At around midday, the two decided to find food, and wandered into the kitchen. They stole some bread and sandwich makings and absconded with their findings, much to the chagrin of the cook who screamed at them until they were out of earshot. 

The two collapsed against the wall, giggling. “You want to find a quiet place to eat?” Kaya asked. Thea grinned.

The two found a quiet place for themselves on a balcony overlooking the North edge of the Keep. The two had just finished their food and were chatting when a messenger interrupted them.

“Thea Blackbeak?”

“That’s me,” she murmured.

“This is a message from the Matron to your mother. She instructed that it be delivered as soon as possible. We have already arranged for transportation for you. The Matron asks that you be ready and waiting outside the Northern Gate within the hour.” The messenger bowed, handed over the envelope, and left.

Thea turned to Kaya. “I have to go. I’m really sor __ ”

“Don’t apologize. I understand. Just promise me I’ll see you again.”

Thea smiled. “You will see me again soon,” Thea promised.

Kaya nodded and pulled her into a swift hug before releasing her and striding away. Thea felt a pang in her heart, and not for the first time, she cursed her mother and gods-damned errands.

**[] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] [] []**

Despite the promise Thea made to Kaya when they were twelve, they didn’t see each other again until they were almost fifteen. Thea had left for her first crochan hunting mission the day she turned fourteen. It had taken her months of hunting, but Thea had finally tracked down a group of five crochan witches living in a small mountain town. The five hearts Thea now carried in a wooden box were proof of her victory. 

Thea was two months away from her fifteenth birthday as she pushed her body and her broom to fly faster. Thea was almost to Blackbeak Keep to give the Matron the five crochan hearts, and she wanted to get there as soon as possible. Thea was tired, hungry, and weather-worn. All she wanted was to deliver the hearts to the Matron, shower, eat, and then sleep for the next three centuries. In that order. Thea had a request of the Matron, and she had been debating when to ask. Thea decided she was simply too tired to have that discussion, so she could ask the Matron after she’d had some food and a decent night’s sleep.

The sky was fading quickly into shades of gray as Thea set down in the courtyard. She dismounted her broom and strode toward the doors of the Keep, black cloak billowing behind her. It was winter, so the sky darkened early which meant that it wasn’t too late to visit the Matron. 

Thea tracked her way through the twisting corridors of Blackbeak Keep, having to backtrack here and there, but eventually she found the Matron’s study. Thea knocked quietly on the Matron’s door and entered at her instruction.

“Matron,” Thea murmured respectfully as she bowed slightly. 

“Thea Blackbeak,” the Matron said, and Thea had to hold back a twitch.  _ Why did the Matron know her name? _

“Yes. I just returned from my first crochan hunting mission, and these are my gifts to you.” Thea laid the wooden box on the desk.

“The Matron studied it for a moment before speaking. “I understand you are considering moving into the Keep.” Thea blinked. She was tired and didn’t have the energy or wherewithal to figure out how the Matron knew that, so she simply nodded. “My granddaughter is assembling a coven of sorts. She seems to be taking in quite a few strays, Kaya Blackbeak being one of them. I understand you two know each other.” Thea’s heart nearly stopped. She hadn’t let herself think about the other reason she wanted to move to Blackbeak Keep. Hadn’t dared consider she was making such a monumental decision based on auburn hair, a wicked grin, and a half formed promise. The Matron continued as if she hadn’t very nearly stopped Thea’s heart. “Their quarters are in the private part of the East Wing.”

Thea took the hint and nodded, bowing before slipping out of the study. Thea wandered the hallways in a haze until she found the East Wing and followed the sound of voices to a study door. She paused, considering. What, exactly, was she going to say? ‘Excuse me, your grandmother sent me to come live with you without consulting you first. I hope you don’t mind.’ But the decision was taken from her when the door opened to reveal a witch Thea had never seen before. Her pale skin made her seem almost ghostly. Even her muted light brown hair didn’t dispel the effect. The only color was the flecks of gold in her black eyes, a commodity in witches. It was to her mother’s great chagrin that Thea’s eyes were a dull brown, no gold in sight.

“Who are you?” the witch asked suspiciously. But Thea had lost her voice. Because her eyes had caught on her. Kaya. She was even more beautiful than before. She had grown, gained muscle, and filled out. Kaya’s eyes caught on hers, and Thea felt her heart leap with joy at the sight.

“It’s okay Imogen. I know her.” Kaya rose from where she’d been perched on one of the two couches. “Everyone, this is Thea. Thea, the one glowering at you right now is Imogen, the blonde is Asterin, and of course you know Manon.”

“I decided to move into the Keep, and the Matron said I should come visit you guys and __ ”

“Come in,” the blonde one, Asterin said. Kaya reached out and grabbed Thea’s hand, pulling her into the room as Imogen closed the door. Thea didn’t miss the way Kaya interlaced their fingers, the heat in her eyes, or the way Kaya sat so close that her entire body pressed up against Thea’s. Conversation started up again, and the rest, as they say, is history.


	20. Asterin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First portion of Asterin and her hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! It feels like forever since I last updated, but I know it hasn't been that long. This chapter is a little bit shorter than the others. As a heads up, when I add another Thea/Kaya chapter, I'll rearrange the chapters so that the Thea/Kaya chapters are next to each other, though that's a while out.

Asterin was twenty-eight when it happened. She had always been stubborn, sometimes reckless, but this time took the cake. The thunderstorm was brutal __ so much rain she couldn’t see a foot in front of her, winds so strong it took everything she had to stay on her broom, and thunder so loud it deafened her. Every once in a while the sky would light up with lightning, nearly blinding her. Asterin knew she should stop. Knew she should set down, wait out the storm. But it was a hundred miles before the next village, and Asterin didn’t want to land. So she pushed forward, deeper into the storm. But the farther she flew, the worse it got. When a lightning strike hit a little too close, even for her, she tried flying up. But she couldn’t find the top. It was only then that Asterin began to panic. She continued flying, trying to find some opening, some way out of the storm. But there wasn’t one. Asterin didn’t know what happened, didn’t know  _ how  _ it happened, but she was falling. It took her brain too long to process this fact, and by the time she realized it was too late. She managed to level her broom somewhat into a landing position, but she couldn’t stop her fall.

Asterin hit the ground hard. She felt her arm snap, then snap again.  _ Broken in two places, _ she thought distantly. She felt her ankle twist dangerously, and her broom lay in pieces scattered around her. Her last thought before she blacked out was that she’d really liked that broom.

Asterin woke slowly. The first thing she became aware of was the  _ pain. _ It nearly caused her to black out again. Her entire body ached, but her right arm and ankle were the worst. Her right arm was still mending itself back together, but at least it was healing. Her ankle was still throbbing and she doubted she could use it. She processed all of this within seconds of waking up. The second thing she noticed was that she wasn’t alone. Her eyes snapped open and met eyes the color of the sea __ blue flecked with bits of green and even brown.

Asterin tried to move, but it sent pain shooting through her entire body. 

“Don’t move,” the man said. “You’re still healing.”

Asterin ignored him, trying to move, trying to do  _ anything. _ But she couldn’t. She finally stopped trying when her vision began to swim. Asterin probably would have considered killing him for his supplies, but she didn’t have the strength. Asterin managed to roll her head to the side just a little bit to watch as the man stood and went to a little side table. He picked something up before walking back toward Asterin. She tried to reach for a dagger or even raise her arm, but she couldn’t. When the man got close enough, Asterin saw he had picked up a cup. 

He reached out slowly, making every move predictable. He set a cup against her lips. “Drink,” he said calmly.

Asterin wanted to fight him, but she needed water, food, and rest if she wanted to heal. Asterin slowly sipped at the water. Asterin hadn’t realized how thirsty she was, and she made a slight noise of protest when he took the cup away.

“You have to start slow.” He set the cup aside, and Asterin took the time to study him. He was handsome, she had to give him that. His hair was ink-black and reached to about his shoulders. His skin had the tanned, golden color of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun.  _ His eyes are beautiful  _ was the first thing her delirious brain could come up with, and she forcibly shoved the thought away.

Asterin was beginning to panic now. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths, and asked herself what she was supposed to do in a situation like this. Kill him __ she should kill him. He probably saw her fall from the sky, and even on the off chance that he didn’t, she needed his supplies. But she was once again reminded that she  _ couldn’t  _ kill him. She was far too weak for that. So, Asterin forced herself to make a plan. First, she would play the damsel in distress __ not too hard right now because she actually  _ was _ a damsel in distress, much as she hated to admit it __ until she gained her strength back. Once she was strong enough, she could kill him. With him out of the way, she would have this entire place to herself while she healed and recuperated. Yes, that’s what she would do.

While Asterin had been mentally preparing her next steps the man had left the room and come back in carrying a bowl of something that made Asterin very aware it had been a long time since she’d eaten. The man __ she really needed something else to call him __ sat in a chair beside the bed. As he dipped a spoon into the bowl and held it to her lips, she realized it was broth. Asterin glowered at him as he tried to hand feed her.

“You need to eat, and you certainly can’t feed yourself.”

Once again, Asterin found herself fighting the urge to wack him, if only because it would have caused her more pain. Asterin forced herself to eat, although she glowered at him sideways the entire time. By the time Asterin finished the bowl __ he’d forced her to eat all of it despite her protests __ she was exhausted. Her body felt leaden and her mind was sluggish.

“Sleep,” the man said quietly, and Asterin did.

The next few days passed in a haze of half-consciousness. Asterin had apparently slept for an entire day after their first interaction. She had then woken only long enough to drink and eat something before passing out again. This had continued for the next three days, until one day she managed to stay awake for a little over an hour. Asterin still hadn’t been able to move, but it had been illuminating. 

When she’d woken, the man had been sleeping in a chair by her bed. He woke as she shifted, the rustle of the sheets startling him awake. He blinked blearily at her for a few seconds before reaching for the water pitcher. This had become their ritual. Asterin would wake, he would feed her a bowl of broth and let her drink some water, and she would pass out again. Asterin did indeed eat and drink, but once she was finished she didn’t immediately pass out again. She felt clearer than she had in awhile.

“What happened?” Asterin said, her voice hoarse from disuse. 

“I’m a hunter. Mostly of exotic game. I had decided to come back early because of the storm. I was almost back to my cabin when I saw you fall from the sky. I knew what you were, and I knew it was probably stupid but I couldn’t just leave you there. I found you, and managed to get you back to the cabin. I have some medical knowledge __ just enough so that I can get by. There aren’t any doctors close by. I knew you were a witch, and I’d heard rumors you healed faster than humans. Not as fast as Fae but I hoped that with time your body would repair itself. I splinted what I could, and let your body do the rest.”

Asterin blinked at him. He was human. And she was a witch. He’d known what she was, and yet he’d still helped her. She didn’t know how to deal with that, so she asked another question.

“What’s your name?”

The man smiled at her. “Liam.”

“Well, Liam, I’m Asterin.”

That had been four days ago. She had healed further in those days, and could move without much pain now. Asterin knew what she should do next. She knew she should kill him, take his supplies, and move on to the next village. But, she didn’t want to. Liam had taken care of her while she was injured, even knowing what she was. She wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, but he no longer looked like food or a threat. He was what Asterin might tentatively call a friend. She’d never had friends before. At least, friends that weren’t witches. She found it was sort of nice.

Days melded into weeks as Asterin healed. She had been bed ridden for almost two weeks, and had to gain back her strength. They started slow. Very,  _ very  _ slow. Taking three of four steps around the room with Liam’s help. He didn’t let her do any more than that for the first three days she could get out of bed. Slowly, he increased the number of steps, until she could walk to the bathroom and back in one go although still with his help. Once Liam deemed she was strong enough, they started the entire process over again __ but this time she did it without help. It was a slow, excruciating process, but bit by bit she got better. Once she was walking on her own, and Liam deemed she was healed completely, she began to train again. Asterin worked on rebuilding her strength, basic stamina. Liam hunted for them both, since she hadn’t left the cabin. Liam told her there were dangers in the forest, and while she was physically healed, she was much weaker than she had been. She grudgingly agreed, and so Liam hunted for the both of them while Asterin rebuilt her strength.

Liam had a bow and arrows and some basic tools for hunting, but not much else in the way of weapons. Asterin spent her spare time making daggers and swords. Once she was strong enough, she began practicing with them. She was still far too weak to even defend against a wild animal, but she was making progress. Asterin knew that soon she would be strong enough to leave the cabin. Asterin wasn’t exactly sure what would happen then. Her broom had been completely shattered in her fall, and she hadn’t yet carved a new one. The other thing Asterin had become aware of over these weeks was that she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave.

Asterin had found a surprising amount of peace at the cabin. There was no stress from the Matron, no expectations set on her by other Blackbeaks. But Asterin was keenly aware of the fact that Liam was human, and she was a witch. Asterin wasn’t sure she would want to stay in the cabin after he was gone. That was the other thing Asterin had become aware of over these weeks. She  _ liked  _ Liam. He was smart, gentle, and fun to converse with. He didn’t particularly care what she did, so long as it didn’t endanger her in any way. The thought of leaving the cabin, and him, behind hurt more than it probably should.

Asterin knew that one day she would have to leave. Whether it was because Liam was gone, and she couldn’t stay here, or because she was called back to the Keep, it didn’t matter. But she couldn’t focus on that. So Asterin made a mental plan. She couldn't leave without a broom. So first, she would talk to Liam about going to hunt game with him. She could look for a suitable branch of ironwood for her broom. Once she found the wood, the broom itself would take weeks to carve, and she wouldn’t be able to leave until it was finished. She’d carve her broom, and once it was finished, she’d reconsider her options. But for now, she could simply enjoy what she had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm debating whether or not to write a chapter or two from the POV of Asterin's hunter. It's something I'm considering, but I don't know how well that would go. Is that something y'all would be interested in?


	21. Asterin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more Asterin/Liam in this chapter, and some relationship development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Y'all!!! It feels like foreeeever since I last updated, and I apologize. I was super busy this last week, and I just got around to writing this. However, today does mark the start of Spring Break, so YAAAAAY! Even though I have LOTS of volleyball planned for this week, I'm *hoping* I'll be able to update at least once, maaaaybe twice this week. If you're on the same schedule as me, happy Spring Break!!

Asterin shifted her weight back, rebalancing on the branch. She flexed her gloved fingers around the grip of her bow. The gloves had been given to her by Liam for her first time out of the cabin. She didn’t usually need gloves, but she didn’t mind them. Asterin was currently crouched on the limb of a tree, waiting. She ignored the way the quiver poked uncomfortably into her back. 

Asterin perked up slightly as her supernatural hearing picked up a noise. The near-silent footfalls Asterin had come to recognize as Liam’s. Asterin strained her eyes toward where she’d heard the noise, but they weren’t in view yet. A few seconds later, the brush in front of her exploded with movement. A doe leapt through the underbrush, long legs stumbling as she landed. Liam was close behind, his steps soft and quiet. As Liam chased the doe closer to where Asterin hid, she nocked an arrow. Pulling back the string on her bow, Asterin took aim, and let her arrow fly. The arrow sliced straight through the doe’s left eye, embedding all the way to the fletching.

The doe staggered a couple more steps before collapsing onto the mossy ground.

“Nice shot,” Liam chuckled. Asterin let herself roll gracefully out of the tree, her feet hitting the forest floor with a quiet thump. Asterin strapped her bow to her back alongside her remaining arrows.

Asterin flashed him a smile. “Thanks.” She stalked toward the doe, and leaned down to yank out her arrow. She’d clean it once they arrived back at the cabin. It wasn’t really safe to be out in the forest past sundown. Asterin had healed completely, and gained back her strength. But while Liam could defend himself, he was still human and therefore wasn’t as strong or fast as some of the things that lurked in the woods. Gods, there were probably things in these woods that  _ Asterin  _ wouldn't be able to take.

When Liam reached her, he leaned forward and kissed her, slow and calm. Asterin pulled back to rest her forehead against his chest. She remembered the first time he had kissed her. They had been sitting in front of the fire after one of their hunts. Asterin had been curled up underneath a fur blanket. It hadn’t been overly cold, but the blanket was comfy and gave her a sense of safety. Liam had sat beside, his body heat slowly suffusing her the longer he sat there. 

There had been a quiet air in the cabin that night, calm and serene. In that moment, Asterin wasn’t a witch, and Liam wasn’t human. They had simply  _ been. _ No pressure on Asterin to hunt Crochans, no sense of a noose tightening around her neck the longer she stayed. There had been nothing. Just the quiet crack of branches collapsing as they burned, and the soft heat of Liam’s body beside hers. Asterin had never wanted it to end. 

Asterin had turned to look at him, and Liam had leaned forward. Slowly, inch by inch, he had closed the gap, keeping eye contact the entire time, making sure she knew what was going to happen and giving her the option to pull away. But she hadn’t pulled away. Even as deeply ingrained instincts told her this was a bad idea, she’d let him kiss her. It had been slow, and there had been no rush. That was all they had done that night, and all the rest. They would sit on the couch before the fire and kiss before falling asleep tangled together. But it hadn’t gone any farther than that. Asterin wasn’t sure she wanted it to.

This. . .  _ thing _ between her and Liam was already more intimate than anything she’d ever had before. Asterin was by no means a virgin, but all her encounters before were short and meaningless. This was the closest thing Asterin had ever, and probably would ever, have to a relationship. But Asterin was a witch, and Liam was human. Even if there wasn’t the looming fact of Asterin’s immortality compared to Liam’s mortality, Asterin belonged to the Blackbeak’s. A day would come when she would be recalled to Blackbeak Keep. And she would go. She would  _ have  _ to go. But for now, Asterin would take what time she could get.

“Meet me back at the cabin?” Liam’s voice tore Asterin back to the present. Smiled and pressed a kiss to his throat. 

“Yes.” Liam knew she liked to take a little bit longer route, a little more difficult. She had to keep up with her training to some degree, and the forest made for an excellent obstacle course.

Asterin’s thoughts once again consumed her as she made her way back to the cabin. She had still yet to start her new broom. As much as it hurt to think of the implications of making another broom, she needed one. It was a witch’s main mode of transportation, and not having one could cripple her.

Liam sensed she had something on her mind the moment she arrived back at the cabin, as always seemed to be able to do. He raised one eyebrow at her in silent question. 

“I need to start a new broom,” Asterin blurted, her heart slamming against the walls of her ribcage. Liam’s expression didn’t change much. He simply smiled slightly and gestured to the couch. Asterin allowed him to pull her down beside him. She curled into him, letting him wrap his arms around her. There was silence for a moment as the two soaked in each other’s presence. 

“Will you tell me about it?” Liam asked quietly, his whisper barely disturbing the peace.

Asterin took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’m not leaving,” she blurted out. “At least, I don’t plan to anytime soon.” Liam’s response was to stroke her hair. “A witch’s broom is really her only form of transportation, and obviously it is crippling to be without one. But there are other reasons for a witch to have a broom.

“All Ironteeth witches feel the call of the wind in their bones, in their very blood. Flying is an instinct to us, something we  _ must  _ do. However, witches must make their first flight on a broom of their own making. I’ll explain that more later. A witch grows up with the call of the wind in her veins, but is unable to fly until she has carved her own broom and proven herself worthy of the skies. 

“When a witch turns fourteen, it is customary for her to go on her first Crochan hunting mission. Witches can go earlier, but all except for a very select few go before their fourteenth birthday. This is a test of sorts. It is the first time a witch will ever fly, and not all witches return from these missions. Witches spend months, sometimes years, preparing for their first mission. A broom takes a very long time to make. The process of choosing your piece of Ironwood alone can sometimes take months. Once a witch has selected her Ironwood, she must carve it into a broom. This is a process they must do by themselves. Each witch’s broom is different __ the basics are the same, but each is unique to its witch. Your very first broom is a special thing. Most witches have some sort of sentimental attachment to their first broom, although most witches go through more than one in their lifetime.”

Beside her, Liam stirred. “Why?”

“Witches live a very long time, and throughout their lives they encounter problems and conflict. Brooms are damaged or broken beyond repair. While every witch loves their first broom, it is not a bad thing to have to carve a new one. In fact, some witches carve new brooms even if they still have their previous one. Often, after a major battle, a witch will take the broom that they flew on and dedicate it to the Three-Faced Goddess as thanks for surviving the battle. Some witches lay them on shrines or have special places for those brooms in their houses or living quarters. It is a tradition I actually find rather fascinating. It stems somewhat from the folklore behind a witch’s broom.

“There is a folklore surrounding the Ironwood we carve out brooms from. It says that each piece of Ironwood cut by a witch carries a small piece of a spirit in it. The spirit of a river, or an oak tree. They say that each witch must bond with their broom, with the spirit it holds. If you don’t bond with the spirit in your broom, you will not fly well or fight well in battle. After a major battle, witches feel the spirit that resides in the broom deserves to live in peace, so they hang up their broom and carve a new one.”

“Do you believe that?” Liam asked softly.

Asterin smiled sadly. “I’d like to. But, unfortunately, I know how mean the gods can be, and the spirits as well. It is a beautiful story, and I wish it were true, but no. The real reason is more scientific and also beautiful in a way I suppose. Each broom is made slightly different, as I’ve said before. A broom is made to be aerodynamic, to cut through winds and be balanced enough not to fall out of the sky. But the slightest thing can completely throw off your flight. The small knot at the end of your broom makes flying your broom completely different from anyone else’s. Since every broom is unique, whether in its length, width, or a small blemish or accessory that sets it apart, every broom flies differently. Each witch has to learn how to fly  _ their _ broom. It also ensures that another witch would have a hard time flying your broom without proper practice.

“Sorry, I got a bit off track. My point is, a broom is something sacred. Since you carve your first broom for when you turn fourteen, it’s a sort of coming of age ritual. If you don’t have a broom, it means that you are a disgrace or you didn’t pass your test to become a proper witch. Either way, I’d like to have a broom on hand. They are useful, and it has been a staple in my life and our culture for much longer than I have been alive.”

“Of course,” Liam smiled.

“I have to start searching for an appropriate piece of Ironwood. And,” she added, “it’s something I have to do alone. You can sit with me while I carve it and talk, but the finding of the Ironwood must be mine alone. Just because there isn’t a spirit in my broom doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know your broom.”

“Alright. Just be careful,” Liam murmured quietly. Asterin grinned at him, a little bit of wickedness dancing in her eyes. 

“When am I ever not?”

It took Asterin two months to find a piece of Ironwood she liked. Then it was another month of slowly separating a chunk of Ironwood from the tree. Once it was separated, Asterin hauled it back to the cabin to begin her work on it. It was a slow, laborious process. 

Slowly but surely, over the next four months her broom began to take shape. Asterin’s first broom had been done well for her first, but she had learned a lot since she was fourteen. A broom was also sometimes said to reflect its rider’s personality __ how thick or thin, length, etc. Asterin’s broom held a deadly sort of elegance. It was thinner and more refined than most witches brooms. But it was also reinforced and strong. It would hold up much better than her first broom, and she would be able to fly much faster.

Finally, halfway through her fifth month of the carving process, it was finished. Liam insisted they celebrate, so they dug up some alcohol from a stash Liam had accrued over the years. They drank, ate, talked, and laughed. And for the first time, they went far beyond simply kissing. When they were finished, Asterin was content to curl into Liam’s side.

Little did they know, in the coming week that tentative and fragile peace they had found would be shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh! So, yes I am alive. As always, I appreciate any comments or feedback. I am also still looking for suggestions on anything y'all want to see in coming chapters, whether it be Asterin/Liam or about one of the other Thirteen. There is a sort of half-formed, possible idea of me writing about the school Ghislaine went to that made her more human (shoutout to wearethe13 for the idea), so that is sort of in the works. Other than that, and maybe another Thea/Kaya chapter, I don't have much, so ideas appreciated!! Anyway, y'all be safe!


End file.
